“Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. 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. Wood's ornaments and wearing apparel, they prepared to depart. . And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours.
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