"I thought I heard a scream. Through no fault of her own. 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. ’ Authority had won again, Gerald thought with satisfaction. ‘But Gérard—if you mean the fellow Alderley who was making eyes at Yolande—is not here.
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