Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. 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. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. .
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