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. ” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed. Mr. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. You have never felt the hearts of all hardened against you; have never heard the jeer or curse from every lip; nor endured the insult and the blow from every hand. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. “You vixen!” said Mr.
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