The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. John looked at his feet bashfully. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. You don’t know the thoughts we have; the things we can do and say. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy.
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