The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. "I shall do no such thing.
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