Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you. Even though I am going to sing at the ‘Unusual’ you may find that the ‘Alcide,’ whom you knew in Paris does not exist any more.
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