He'll be able to help us a little now. He regarded that perennial miracle of pinning with wrathful eyes. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants.
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