"First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me. . Not a breath was drawn. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things.
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