I had no idea!” She sat down abruptly and threw her wrists limply upon the table. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. 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. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. ’ She sniffed and swallowed. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse.
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