“I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. ’ ‘How shocking. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. “Permit me to offer you the English paper which has just arrived, Sir John,” he said, holding out a Daily Telegraph. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief.
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