was not all, surely there was more. Still the springs, the springs were in her seeking. Somewhere an older power that beat for life. Somewhere coherence, transport, meaning. If they would but leave her in the air now stilled of clamor, in the reconciled solitude, to journey on.
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And they put a baby in her lap. Immediacy to embrace, and the breath of that past: warm flesh like this that had claims and nuzzled away all else and with lovely mouths devoured; hot-living like an animalintensely and now; the turning maze; the long drunkenness; the drowning into needing and being needed. Severely she looked backand the shudder seized her again, and the sweat. Not that way. Not there, not now could she, not yet. . . .
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And all that visit, she could not touch the baby.
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''Daddy, is it the . . . sickness she's like that?" asked Vivi. "I was so glad to be having the babyfor her. I told Tim, it'll give her more happiness than anything, being around a baby again. And she hasn't played with him once."
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He was not listening, "Aahh little seed of life, little charmer," he crooned, "Hollywood should see you. A heart of ice you would melt. Kick, kick. The future you'll have for a ball. In 2050 still kick. Kick for your grandaddy then."
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Attentive with the older children; sat through their performances (command performance; we command you to be the audience); helped Ann sort autumn leaves to find the best for a school program; listened gravely to Richard tell about his rock collection, while her lips mutely formed the words to remember: igneous, sedi-
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