"Heaven be praised she knows me at last. That’s the fact of the matter. ” She looked into her glass. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. There was another little thing he had to say. But the vicomte has said that his sister may remain, but that the daughter must go. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. ” The audience clapped when cued by Brown, not sure of what to do. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised.
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