“I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. ” A little murmur of expectation, an audible silence announced the coming of “Alcide. Yet you knew that I was not dead. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. 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. "Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me," growled Austin.
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