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To all appearance Hunt was a sworn Beatricite, but if by any chance he had heard something in favor of the Hartites, he was just the man to go over to them. "There are about ten or twenty people with Mrs. Bell," said Miss Maria. "I'm sure that's Mrs. Bell. Yes, that is her bonnet." She raised herself on tip-toe, clutching hold of Mrs. Morris's arm as she did so.
For the last week she had taken steps to keep Catherine and Mabel apart from all Northbury gossip. The servants at the Manor who, of course knew everything did not dare to breathe a syllable of their conjectures. The bravest Hartite and Beatricite would not have dared to intrude their budgets of wild conjecture on Mrs. Bertram's ears.
Meadowsweet's, was followed by quite a little mob. Thus time went on apace, and Rumor did his work, each lady saying when she met another: "Well, what's the news? What's the latest? What did you hear last?" Each Hartite bowed coldly to each Beatricite, or else cut each other dead, and, in short, the usual symptoms which accompany civil war made themselves felt.
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