Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. “You shall go,” he declared. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. The perfume was the only one she ever used. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. “You have no right to hold me to a bargain which on your side was a lie. ’ To Gerald’s relief, the entrance of the butler interrupted them, relieving him of the necessity to explain himself. Yesterday this glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it.
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