She saw his eyes glaze over. 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 glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. You’ve got me. The terror faded from her eyes.
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