'Melancholy streets, in a penitential garb of soot,' read Dr. Larch, and then he stopped; we need no more melancholy here, he thought.

There had been a time in the seventh century when Anglo-Saxon kings with many men's death on their consciences went to Rome to die in penitential garb.

Melancholy streets, in a penitential garb of soot, steeped the souls of the people who were condemned to look at them out of windows, in dire despondency.

On the day before Easter, following the death of her second consort, she appeared before the gates of the Lateran basilica, dressed in penitential garb, and did public penance for her sin, which made a great impression upon the Christian population of Rome.