“It has been very kind of you to see me, but I don’t want to sit and talk and use your time any longer. For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. Lucy could see her striding down a Parisian catwalk quite easily. 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. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. She put back her hood in a determined way.
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