The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. John’s best friend’s parents were to be out of town again, he reported. 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. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it.
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