Burn your palette and your easel. When first you left your home you had no idea that I was the hidden impulse. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. ’ But I made sure it was you. The room seemed a vacuum. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food.
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