Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Brown broke the silence. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. You have nothing more to fear from Wild. And you have to thank her presence, hot-headed boy, that I do not chastise your insolence as it deserves.
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