“Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. She was furiously angry. 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.
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