She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. She laughed altogether in her old manner. Master Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin'; and you, Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst, I defy you. The thought of going back!—the thought of the unknown out there!—" with a tragic gesture toward the east. "Look at it!" he felt like screaming. " And thus their domesticity at McClintock's began—with the tubbing of a stray yellow dog. “Ugh!” she said.
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