” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. Already Cosette was her chosen friend.
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