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. “Afterwards it seems to me that there are no limits to what one may not do amongst one’s own set. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. ” “There’s green-fly,” admitted Ann Veronica.
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