She’s taken my sword. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside. ’ ‘From you,’ the lady threw at him furiously. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers.
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