" "Are you a real nurse?" "Yes. I must break open the door. "Poor Mrs. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. "I had a terrible dream last night. Hopefully. 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. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea.
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