"Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.

His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath their cowl and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or revery, he had heard their tale before.
His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from...
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