Grudgingly he admired her. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. I don’t want to know. Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground; others were unroofed; the leads on the churches were ripped off, and "shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment. \" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones.
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