’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. The walls of the room were lined with shelves, on which were glass jars, retorts, countless bottles and many appliances of surgical science. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQzLjIwNS4xMzcgLSAyMi0wNy0yMDI0IDA1OjU2OjUzIC0gNTEwMjQ0MTc2
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