She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. . A creeping numbness invaded her. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache.
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