I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. Carefully sustaining the child which, even in that terrible extremity, he had not the heart to abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himself with his right hand, crept slowly on. The lips were straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable. Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. " Immediately he stepped back. "I will struggle no longer with destiny.
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