A slender young man, wearing glasses, appeared from the shadow of the nearest van. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. ’ If she suffered from dragging pain in her joints, Gerald thought it explained why her features were prematurely lined. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. ’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. ” “That’s if we succeed. It was from Brendon. Something about this woman rather reminds me of our hostess.
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