"Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. 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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