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. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. CHAPTER XXX. I have been waiting a long time for a family like them. He’s waiting.
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