The old woman making her way up the street amid the storm, carrying on one arm a large, square market basket covered with a black cloth, as if to keep whatever was inside dry from the pelting rain, did, indeed, seem a strange figure.

As she walked along, holding her large, green umbrella over her head, she glanced now, and then from beneath it at the houses she ed. She caught sight of the four Bobbsey twins at the window of their home, and halted a minute, gazing intently at them.

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