She stared in front of her, she was laughing and nodding and cackling to herself; her claws clutched round what looked like a dirty boot-bag.
But just at that moment there was Mrs.Raddick again with--her--and another lady hovering in the background.

Mrs.Raddick rushed at me.

She was brightly flushed, gay, a different creature.

She was like a woman who is saying "good-bye" to her friends on the station platform, with not a minute to spare before the train starts.
"Oh, you're here, still.

Isn't that lucky! You've not gone.