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. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. \" Mark was tall and skinny, a mop of brown hair over a pillar of freckles.
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