For all that, it is folly. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. "By Heaven!" cried he in a tone of surprise, "you have an infant there?" "To be sure I have," replied Wood, angrily; for, finding that the intentions of the stranger were pacific, so far as he was concerned, he thought he might safely venture on a slight display of spirit. But there was, it insisted, no mobility in his face, no movement, nothing about him that warmed.
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