‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. But never would any so dishonour himself as to hand a fellow rogue over to the authorities.
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