“Because I hate you!” She spat. Perhaps because I don’t know. ’ ‘Indeed? Interesting. She shook her head. To-morrow I am going to Paris. It is the same man, for he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. 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. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. That’s why I chucked Manning. You’d think with as much dick as she gets that she’d cheer up. 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. “I suppose I should let go if I had. "I am surprised we have received no summons for attendance to-day," he remarked; "perhaps the other robber may be secured.
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