Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. You'd not know what to do without me, and shan't drive me off. Wood, disdainfully. She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him. . She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
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