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Sheppard. He saw that his words were falling upon dull ears. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. 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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