"What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. ” Then she looked up at him with frightened eyes. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague. “He is a sad blunderer. " "Not necessarily. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. A vast indifference settled down upon him. It depresses one, you know. She was delivered home by 11:30pm. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. I do not think that I have the Bohemian spirit at all.
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