Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. 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. "Ruth, you must not come and sit on the threshold. ‘You know about that?’ ‘It was the only possible deduction. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room.
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