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She winced when first she heard the preparation-room door open and Capes came down the laboratory; but when at last he reached her she was self-possessed. “Please forgive me, Lucy. 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. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. He kissed her again. "Choose, Jack.
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