” Anna measured out the coffee. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. "Then, of course, you must know. I’ve never had these crying fits before. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. "By George!" he exclaimed. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death.
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