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Humph. 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. . Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path.
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