” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. 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. “Let me introduce my friend to you,” Courtlaw said. However, confession of a fault makes half amends for it. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. My nerves were in rags. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened.
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