Mr Lovelace grabbed at — and held on to — a beam. Justice clutched his arms around his father's leg and held on for very life. Mrs Lovelace clung to the steps that led above, her knuckles white under the strain. Prudence gripped her mother's skirt. She buried her face deep in the folds of her apron. She desperately wished to hide from the hideous chaos. 'Order! please,' rang out the strong voice of Mr Lovelace. 'Order! please!'
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