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. "Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. “Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing.
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