O'Higgins did not confide in me. It has been very humiliating. Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. “Pellissier,” she repeated thoughtfully. Her impressions of this cardinal ceremony were rich and confused, complicated by a quite transitory passion that awakened no reciprocal fire for a fat curly headed cousin in black velveteen and a lace collar, who assisted as a page. Lucia liked the doctor though, and he seemed to be very fond of her too. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. This is not the conduct of a jeune demoiselle. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility.
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