’ ‘But he gives them to me. Earles declared. There is no Heaven for your mother. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. The great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass alone. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth.
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