CHAPTER X. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. "I'll tell you why," he said. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. 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.
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