Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. “Mean as an old mule, too. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty.
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