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Updated: May 24, 2025
"But gracious me!" he exclaimed, suddenly checking himself. "I am forgetting you all this while!" Richard hurriedly reversed the mass of plaster on the table, and released Margaret's half-petrified fingers. They were shriveled and colorless with the cold. "There isn't any feeling in it whatever," said Margaret, holding up her hand helplessly, like a wounded wing.
"I am glad," he said, "that my last day with you has been crowned by such adventures. I leave the Lake at noon." She hung, listening, with a backward swerve of figure, and regarding him in the dim light of the swinging hall-lamp, for the moment half-petrified. Suddenly she turned and seized his hand in hers, then threw it off.
While my would-be murderers were holding this whispered colloquy, I had stood half-petrified by the open window; unwilling to slide down the sheets into the arms of an unseen enemy, though I had no idea which of them it could be; more hopeful of slipping past my butchers in the darkness, and so to Rattray and poor Eva; but not the less eagerly looking for some hiding-place in the room.
This was too much for poor, half-petrified pink-face with the twisted tail. Seeing that its comrades were gone in earnest, it became desperate, flung itself frantically into the air with an agonising squeak, missed its mark, went crashing through the slender branches and fell to the ground.
This was too much for poor, half-petrified pink-face with the twisted tail. Seeing that its comrades were gone in earnest, it became desperate, flung itself frantically into the air with an agonising squeak, missed its mark, went crashing through the slender branches and fell to the ground.
Then there was impatient thundering at the knocker, and wild ringing of the bell. "Fire!" gasped the half-petrified Mrs Rigonda. "No smell!" said her half-paralysed spouse. Loud voices in the passage; stumbling feet on the stairs; suppressed female shrieks; bass masculine exclamations; room door burst open; old couple, in alarm, on their feet; cat, in horror, on the top of the bookcase!
"In his heart he would like to play the devil with the bishops and kick every able-bodied parson into the trenches and there are thousands of them that don't need any kicking and, on the contrary, have been kicked back; but he has become half-petrified in the atmosphere of this place. It's lovely to come to as a sort of funk-hole of peace but my holy aunt! What the blazes are you laughing at?"
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