The smile had become a laugh. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house.
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