“Anna,” he cried eagerly. “I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. “This girl—she’s really a very charming, frank person—had had her imagination fired, so she told me, by a school performance of Romeo and Juliet. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. ” “Mr. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard. ‘Suzanne, if I may say, had also not the choice. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned.
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