A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. “It’s because I mean to send it back altogether,” she said. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out.
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