The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Cars rushed by on the street, swerving into the middle of the two lane road to avoid the knee-deep puddles forming around sewer grates. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. For a few minutes all was silent. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things. Wild.
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