"Just give us one more chance!" he pleaded.
The effort of shouting brought on a paroxysm of coughing, violent, tearing, racking his thin chest and swelling the veins in his temples.
"He's a lunger! put him out!" Voice after voice took up the brutal yell of protest. "No lungers wanted! Get off! Get out!" Then a turnip hit him full and hard in his sunken chest.
Involuntarily Nan sprang to her feet, and not knowing what she did, turned and faced the audience behind her, with her eyes flashing and her small, red mouth curved in scorn. Simultaneously there came a fierce yell of rage so savage in its intensity that it rang above the tumult of the rioting mob in the hall.
"Cut that out! By God, you-all cut that out!"
Nan saw Ben Evans kicking chairs out of his way and hurling aside the bystanders who blocked his path as he cleared an opening to the stage.
His hat was on, tilted to shade his eyes,
