" "Hold your tongue!" cried Mrs. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. A door slammed.
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