A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. 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. I am certainly no ghost. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. ” Mr.
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