"Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. 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. ‘You are extremely empty-headed, Lucy. You came to me, you wished me to speak to Anna.
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