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. . She rolled to one side. ’ ‘I am going to England,’ Melusine stated flatly, ‘because there is no safety at the convent at Blaye. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her.
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