He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. 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. "Heed her not. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. ” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. "The youth whom you delivered to Van Galgebrok,—Thames Darrell, is returned.
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