" "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. The tension was palpable. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. In the mornings I find labour easy because I am going to see you.
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