E. Close upon this came another thought. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. 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. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him.
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