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. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her.
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