The man frowned and quirked his head a little. "I'm sorry to hear," he told her. "Are you still able to nurse?" He nodded at the older woman, who stood up and handed Iris the babe. It was dressed in a white robe and a brown woolen blanket. Its thin soft hairs were dark. Now that the woman released it from her warmth, the babe began to stir, opened its eyes a little, pouted, and began to wail. "She's had a few bottlefeeds," said the farmer, "but she wouldn't drink well and she's weak."