"I wanted you to know. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. ” “But it’s about other things. But, it can't be helped. It was obviously pitched well, hitting her head at a good thirtyfive miles per hour. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. What a pig she was. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. "I'll fetch it.
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