“Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. ’ ‘Success?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You can’t prove nothing. 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. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder. .
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