Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. It was late before Jonathan ventured to his own house, where he remained up all night, and kept his janizaries and other assistants well armed. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative.
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