Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace. ‘She hasn’t said so, but I presume Valade had got hold of all the useful papers,’ Gerald went on. 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. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious.
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