Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. 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 would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. Ann Veronica became violently excited at the sight.
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