Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. ‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him. She laughed a little bitterly. She sighed with relief. It’s just upon my lunch-time. He had heard nothing. .
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