“You fill me with happiness, John. Find that boy. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. ‘If you will not tell me about Valade, so be it. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. You may have to carry them further and longer than you think. 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. “It is in your hands from now on, Shar.
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