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. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. If he ran less risk of being blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being washed off, or stifled. ‘Quickly! You must get up.
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