Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. Her eyes where glassy and shining. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied. More importantly, she had her wits. ’ She frowned suddenly.
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