” Lady Ferringhall sat with half closed eyes and clenched teeth. 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. He says only that he must tie up all the loose ends. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now.
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