In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. She turned off the light and approached the window. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. "I'm sorry," she said. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. " Spurlock lowered his voice. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
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