He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. She lived, he noted, very carelessly. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. 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. There was a certain amount of disputation, and meanwhile she went on at school.
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