“Always planning for death. Her eyes quizzed the major. 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. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension.
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