“Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. 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. "Here, Bess, give me the cord, and I'll tie him to this chest of drawers. . Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. But it is not your name.
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