“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal. 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. He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe. ‘And you!’ shrieked Melusine.
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