She roused up, now, with a vindictive cast in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what SHE'D do.
At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant self-satisfaction.

And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerate her with the performance.

At last he spied her, but there was a sudden falling of his mercury.

She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind the schoolhouse looking at a picture-book with Alfred Temple--and so absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book, that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides.
Jealousy ran red-hot through Tom's veins.

He began to hate himself for throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation.