He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. They were only passers-by. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. Which was not to say that ladies were not interested in him. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. See? You marry me. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance.
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