"That he couldn't choose any one so agreeable to me. 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. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. ’ About to hurry from the little parlour, Melusine remembered Mrs Ibstock. With your pencil you see into the hearts of all; and without your pencil you are dumb and blind.
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