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. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. She found her foster father and Mike still awake, playing high stakes UNO at the dimly lit kitchen table. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. The boy was coming around. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent.
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