"Come Bess,—no whimpering. The future was not so black. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night. The door opened. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness.
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