“I was already aware of the fact. No more scuffling. ’ ‘Marry you!’ He shot off the desk, such horror in his face that Melusine felt a little irritated. It would give me great pleasure if you would dine with me somewhere first. She confided in me yesterday. I must leave England to-night. 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. “Stop,” he said. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress.
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