" "If you must go to prison, I will go with you," cried Mrs. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. ” She stopped abruptly, and turned about toward the front door. “In it lies the secret poison he used to turn you into an Oracle. ‘Soldier of fortune. She wanted to know. 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. From first to last, on this occasion, her aunt expostulated for about two hours.
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