There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. She resolved to walk across the Park to the Zoological gardens, and so on by way of Primrose Hill to Hampstead Heath. 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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