Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. Taking a firm grasp of his pistol, Gerald eased back, let go the handle of the door, and at the same instant, swung his booted foot. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial. ” He crossed his arms.
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