The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. ‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor. Instead of which, more than half an hour has elapsed. Then they rode off at speed. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. ‘Alors, I see how is this.
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