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 felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster. He was, however, instantly beaten back; and the fury of the mob was so great that it was with difficulty he could effect a retreat.
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