She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. My friends consider it wonderfully faithful. "You've hit it," answered Sheppard. "He can't get out. ‘I am done, Gérard. Good-bye. 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.
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