1. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged. "I'll tote the odiousness outside.
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