” She said bitterly. She then introduced them to Martin’s parents. She turned towards the door, and had taken a pace towards it when it was flung open. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. ’ Gerald looked round. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. Aware that he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till the storm had, in some measure, blown over. He stepped quickly towards her.
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