She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. “Well, you certainly did very well at tea,” she remarked. 230 Rhea sprang, teeth flashing. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen.
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