Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. . A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out.
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