She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. She did not try to approach 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. Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred.
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