Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. “I love you, you know. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. It had neither succumbed to her nor wrathfully overwhelmed her. If you want me, you know where to find me. That was odd: when young people were joyous, they had to express it physically. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. But at least it gave her more time.
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