" "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. “How dare you!” They were both astonished at the other’s strength. 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. These sham ideals and advanced notions. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. They are used to me, they only cry because they have become so used to being here. “Stop! Don’t put your face there. Sometimes I take innocent lives. “Thank you. " And springing backwards, he darted suddenly through the door. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. Then enter Mr.
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