Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. ‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame. ’ Lucilla let out a peal of laughter. The doctor frowned. ” He walked from his door frame to stand nearer to her. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. 1.
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