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. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. If only one might open the shutters and let in the light.
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