“I ate their mother first. I felt his heart. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. He looked at her guiltily. She wanted to be on with the show. If only we work together. One transgression; he was sure of that. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face. 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. Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. For a second time Ann Veronica wanted to swear at the universe. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence.
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