” “It is a conspiracy,” she exclaimed. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. His eyes closed. 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. Blood and bone, body and spirit, she is selfish through and through. “Impossible to say,” he answered. . Wood. It’s like this: You want freedom. ” He said. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. He was chained to the ground, but started up at their approach. .
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