"Is he your child?"
"Mine."
The other woman, who was bending over it when they came in, stoops down again and kisses it as it lies asleep.
"You seem as fond of it as if you were the mother yourself," says Mr. Bucket.
"I was the mother of one like it, master, and it died."
"Ah, Jenny, Jenny!" says the other woman to her. "Better so. Much better to think of dead than alive, Jenny! Much better!"

"Is he your child?"
"Mine." The other woman stoops down and kisses it as it lies asleep.
"You seem as fond of it as if you were the mother yourself," says Mr. Bucket.
"I was the mother of one like it, master, and it died."
"Ah, Jenny, Jenny!" says the other woman to her. "Better so. Much better!"
