She knew, too, she must not hesitate. He looked the boy over with interest. 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. Politely Ah Cum stooped and recovered the photograph. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. The hardest bout I ever had was with a woman—Sally Wells, who was afterwards lagged for shoplifting. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness.
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