“I say!” he cried. Every afternoon, from now on, I will teach you a little about life—I mean the worldly points of view you're likely to meet. 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. The hurricane had now reached its climax.
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