Mood and hopes ran high. Onto the stage, into this mélange of black power, military symbolism, and Christian striving, walked Kathryn Johnson.

Christ — he yawned — "Christ, what the hell is everybody getting so pisspants scared and nervous for? Vince Eames is what? A crook? So?...

Their language simple, as their manners meek, […]

All that sort of thing is very storyful, of course, but it does not concern this account.