"The end is the most beautiful in English literature. She laughed a little bitterly. The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him.
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