“Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. "Now, step this way, Mr. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. "You didn't spend it?" "I never intended to spend it—any more than I really intended to steal it. 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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