"No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd. "Eggs for me! You mistake, child. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared. Like the Valades, I imagine. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. " "Oh, Heaven!" exclaimed Jack.
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