“Eeeyaiee!” As the steel tore through his chest, shattering flesh and bone, his scream sent the mice scurrying with fright, and hot blood, all red and frothy, with little ruffles like ghastly lace, spurted into the yellow hay, and in another moment Winnie and Mr. Angelini had come running from the pump, and, at the landing, her parasol quivering, Ada stood, her body rigid, her head slightly averted, listening as the cry reached her ears, with it, on the breeze, the lazy thrum of a harmonica, while the fingers of her trembling hand pressed ever more fiercely against the sharp points of the
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