The horror of those few minutes was still with her. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. "But you do agitate me so much. The Bitchster strikes again. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly.
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