Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. Mark you, she wasn’t the only one. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. Past her shot the little old lady in the bonnet, running incredibly fast, but otherwise still alertly respectable, and she was making a strange threatening sound as she ran, such as one would use in driving ducks out of a garden—“B-rr-r-r-r—!” and pawing with black-gloved hands.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4yMzcuMjAxIC0gMjItMDktMjAyNCAwODo0MzowNSAtIDg0NzU3MDQzNQ==
This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 20-09-2024 10:43:36
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8