Part 2 They received the guests in their pretty little hall with genuine effusion. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. 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. I had a hunch. He did not notice that Ann Veronica was preoccupied and heavy-eyed.
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