and when she came up close you could almost feel the dangerous heat radiating from her as from a red-hot rod of metal.
When she marched — Miss Trunchbull never walked, she always marched like a storm-trooper with long strides and arms aswinging —
when she marched along a corridor you could actually hear her snorting as she went, and if a group of children happened to be in her path,
she ploughed right on through them like a tank, with small people bouncing off her to left and right.
Thank goodness we don't meet many people like her in this world, although they do exist
and all of us are likely to come across at least one of them in a lifetime.
If you ever do, you should behave as you would if you met an enraged rhinoceros out in the bush —
climb up the nearest tree and stay there until it has gone away.
This woman, in all her eccentricities and in her appearance, is almost impossible to describe,
but I shall make some attempt to do so a little later on.
Let us leave her for the moment and go back to Matilda and her first day in Miss Honey's class.
After the usual business of going through all the names of the children, Miss Honey handed out a brand-new exercise-book to each pupil.
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