“Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. It’s just like your Splendid Pride to do it. They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. "Let it pass.
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