" Thames hastily cast his eyes over it, and transferred it, with a look of incredulity, to Wood. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. . His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Most of the time, he was hunting and he returned at night.
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