"How, Sir?" "Except by adoption. I do—with all my heart. ” He hesitated, and went off at a tangent. She's plenty clean below. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force.
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