terror；　almost　with　frenzy。

He　learned　to　acquiesce　to　this；　to　submit　to　the　awful；

obliterated　sources　which　were　the　origin　of　his　living　tissue。

He　was　not　what　he　conceived　himself　to　be！　Then　he　was　what　he

was；　unknown；　potent；　dark。

He　became　accustomed　to　the　child；　he　knew　how　to　lift　and

balance　the　little　body。　The　baby　had　a　beautiful；　rounded　head

that　moved　him　passionately。　He　would　have　fought　to　the　last

drop　to　defend　that　exquisite；　perfect　round　head。

He　learned　to　know　the　little　hands　and　feet；　the　strange；

unseeing；　golden…brown　eyes；　the　mouth　that　opened　only　to　cry；

or　to　suck；　or　to　show　a　queer；　toothless　laugh。　He　could　almost

understand　even　the　dangling　legs；　which　at　first　had　created　in

him　a　feeling　of　aversion。　They　could　kick　in　their　queer　little

way；　they　had　their　own　softness。

One　evening；　suddenly；　he　saw　the　tiny；　living　thing　rolling

naked　in　the　mother's　lap；　and　he　was　sick；　it　was　so　utterly

helpless　and　vulnerable　and　extraneous；　in　a　world　of　hard

surfaces　and　varying　altitudes；　it　lay　vulnerable　and　naked　at

every　point。　Yet　it　was　quite　blithe。　And　yet；　in　its　blind；

awful　crying；　was　there　not　the　blind；　far…off　terror　of　its　own

vulnerable　nakedness；　the　terror　of　being　so　utterly　delivered

over；　helpless　at　every　point。　He　could　not　bear　to　hear　it

crying。　His　heart　strained　and　stood　on　guard　against　the　whole

universe。

But　he　waited　for　the　dread　of　these　days　to　pass；　he　saw　the

joy　ing。　He　saw　the　lovely；　creamy；　cool　little　ear　of　the

baby；　a　bit　of　dark　hair　rubbed　to　a　bronze　floss；　like

bronze…dust。　And　he　waited