She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. "Here's a door," remarked Ireton, when he got to that nearest the leads, "which I could have sworn would have resisted anything. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. Jack was caught, as in a trap, by the pendant tails of Abraham's long frock; and, instead of obtaining his release by his ingenuity, he only got a sound thrashing. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield.
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