True to her nature, Cathy had already offered John snacks and drinks of water twice by the time Lucy bounded down the stairs at 3:58. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his arms and forming a tented cage. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. I'd like to be alone now.
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