Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. Spurlock halted in his tracks. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly.
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