Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. ” “You fellows,” Ennison said quietly, “are getting a little wild.
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