Miss Charvill. Cathy answered the phone. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible. 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. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting.
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