Their small talk continued. "I'd forgotten. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. She hastened past. "Alone?" "Not exactly, Sir. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. 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. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.
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