But God did not put you next door. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. 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. She began by being interested in his demonstrations and his biological theory, then she was attracted by his character, and then, in a manner, she fell in love with his mind. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. It dropped sideways and fell with a bang to the table. “I heard they came from somewhere outrageous. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears.
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