“There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. Ramage—about the forty pounds. 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. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone.
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