The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. “You cowards!” said Ann Veronica, “put her down!” and tore herself from a detaining hand and battered with her fists upon the big red ear and blue shoulder of the policeman who held the little old lady. It tore her apart. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull.
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