A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. Norris was so frightened that she ordered the postboys to drive back as fast as they could. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats.
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