Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. Everything. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. Mr. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement.
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