She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. And, also, she wanted to borrow that money. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather. “I won’t give you a check though—Yes, I will.
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