While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. We had not then recovered from the shock.
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