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terror, whilst her eyes sought in vain for a glimpse of light. He was quite willing. He felt ill at ease too. If this woman, this fury, had hit his wife in her sudden outburst of rage? But he could not help blaming himself: who had bade him have anything to do with such people? They were not a match for such barbarous folk. And he was seized with a feeling of aversion for the child sleeping so peacefully on his wife's arm. He looked gloomily at the little face; would he ever be able to love it? Would not the memory of its antecedents always deter him from liking it? Yes, he had been too precipitate. How much better it would have been if he had dissuaded his wife from her wish, if he had energetically opposed her romantic idea of adopting this child, this particular child. He frowned as he looked out of the window, whilst the grey mist clung to the pane and ran down it in large drops. The wind howled outside; it had risen all at once. And it howled still louder the nearer they approached the top of the high Venn, whined round their carriage like an angry dog and hurled itself against the horses' chests. The horses had to fight against it, to slacken their trot; the carriage only advanced with difficulty. The child must never, never know from whence it came, as otherwise--the new father was wrapped in thought as he stared into the Venn, whose wall of mist was now and then torn asunder by a furious gust of wind--as otherwise--what was he going to say? He passed his hand over his brow and drew his breath heavily. Something like fear crept over him, but he did not know why. As he cast a look at his wife, he saw that she was quite absorbed in the contemplation of the sleeping child, which did not lessen his ill humour. He drew away her right hand, with which she was supporting its head that had fallen back: "Don't do that, don't tire yourself like that. It will sleep on even without that." And as she gave an anxious "Hush!" terrified at the thought that the little sleeper might have been disturbed, he said emphatically, "I must tell you one thing, my child, and must warn you against it, don't give him your whole heart at once--wait a little first." "Why?" Something in his voice struck her and she looked at him in surprise. "Why do you say that so--so--well, as if you were vexed?" Then she laughed in happy forgetfulness. "Do you know--yes, it was horrible, awful in those surroundings--but thank God, now it's ov
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