” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. She dare not risk it. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. We needn’t try and give ourselves airs. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. Placing a piece of money in Morgan's hands, he hurried out of the churchyard. “No. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father.
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