“I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. It'll be your own fault if you don't soon get another and a proper young man into the bargain. “But how can you?” asked Constance.
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