” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. “I trust,” he said, “that you will recognize the justice of these conditions. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Give this fellow the slip, if you can, Jack.
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