Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. 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. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. Something has happened to change her marvellously, either that, or she wilfully deceived me and every one else in those days as to her real self.
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