CHAPTER XV. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. I sha'n't utter a word. He lost control of the machine. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. Mr. \"Thank you. His eyes were red. CHAPTER IX.
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