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Between the ponds in the ravine a mill was hidden. As an old

guardian who is spying on two lovers and has heard their talk

together, grows angry, storms, shakes his head and hands and

stutters out threats against them; so that mill suddenly shook

its brow overgrown with moss and twirled around its many-fingered

fist: hardly had it begun to clatter and stir its sharp-toothed

jaws, when at the same moment it deafened the love talk of the

ponds, and awoke the Count.