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. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. . " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six.
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