He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. She had not anticipated such a response from her classmates, but knew to be drawing them with her self-consciousness as if they were bees to pollen. "But there's nothing more to see in Canton. He seemed to have expected them. Maggot. And not a worthy tome in sight. " Exclamations of wonder burst from all. But she felt his lax figure become rigid.
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