She was violent too,
bitter, agitated, fighting against fate, and apt to be vexed with
everyone around her. He was not sure that she was not angry with him
personally, on account of his ideas about reconciliation now that
she must be breathing out vengeance. He knew that his attitude was
a scandal in the family, and that no one would be less disposed to
tolerate it than Aline. But no matter how she received him, he felt
that he must go to her and help her in any way that his affection
could suggest. Expecting a storm, but resigned to it, he climbed up
the stairs and rang the bell at his niece's door.
He found her lying in bed with the infant, which she had had placed
by her side. She looked calm and young, with a sweet expression of
beaming happiness on her face. She was like the blooming older sister
of the tiny baby, at whom she looked with adoring laughter, as he lay
there waving his little spidery legs, his mouth open, hardly alive as
yet, still dreaming of the dark warm place from which he had come. She
greeted Clerambault with a cry of triumph:
"Oh, Uncle dear, how sweet of you to come! Do look at him! Did you
ever see such a darling?"
She was so proud of her wonderful masterpiece that she was positively
grateful to anyone who would look at him.
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