” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. Past her shot the little old lady in the bonnet, running incredibly fast, but otherwise still alertly respectable, and she was making a strange threatening sound as she ran, such as one would use in driving ducks out of a garden—“B-rr-r-r-r—!” and pawing with black-gloved hands. . "Perhaps he means well.
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