It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. He might be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus.
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