Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. Nigel, do you know that I have been very jealous?” He avoided the invitation of her eyes. 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 have no right to love you.
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