Mr. Jack's mouth was coarse and large; Darrell's small and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip, which belongs to the highest order of beauty. Her fingers rested upon his. He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears.
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