5. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. Wood scarcely knew where he was. “The Chens must already be here. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. There'll be busy days and idle. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. 8 or 1.
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