But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her. Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. “It’s—private. For many of them it will smirch us forever. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. You are right. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity.
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