"Look!" she said. "Look, my pretty!" She thrust the infant forward to the crimson, throbbing sun, almost with relief. She saw him lift his little fist. Then she put him to her bosom again, ashamed almost of her impulse to give him back again whence he came. "If he lives," she thought to herself, "what will become of him-what will he be?" Her heart was anxious. "I will call him Paul," she said suddenly; she knew not why. After a while she went home. -D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers
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