Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. But before the Grieg concerto was done, she knew that she was free. Certain reserves went down on both sides.
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