A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything.
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