One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. A cry was then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the mob was instantly directed to that quarter. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat.
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