I did it in self-defence. ” “Clear out?” cried Hetty. 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. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are.
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