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. The night was now profoundly dark. A common rage flushed their faces. It filled her with indefinable fear. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. I slaved over it, contacted half a dozen genealogy groups and came up with zilch.
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