’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. 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.
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