This little child, soft and cuddly, he loved holding her, even though she drooled on his clothes, he, a neat freak, didn't mind.
"Let me hold her one more time, the last time." Sylvan Cheney looked at Jasmine Yale.
There was a strange force inside him urging him to hold Little Clementine, the little one struggling desperately in the stroller captured all his attention, and his heart felt as if touched by a spring breeze.
The little girl seemed tired from crying; she stopped, looking at Sylvan Cheney with her big eyes.
He looked at her, and she looked at him.
Sylvan Cheney's lips curled up, and he smiled.
The little one's eyes were big, like Jasmine Yale's.
He really liked this little girl.
Sylvan Cheney couldn't control himself a bit, he bent down, attempting to lift the transparent cover on the stroller.
