But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Wrenched from their holds, the iron palisades in front of the thief-taker's dwelling were used as weapons to burst open the door. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. “Are you with us?” said the tired woman.
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