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CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. "You know not what you do. ” She gave herself permission now to look at this squarely. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. "Hurrah! come along, Thames; we're free. It has been said, that the pier of each arch, or lock of Old London Bridge, was defended from the force of the tide by a huge projecting spur called a starling. 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. She meant to go, she meant to go, she meant to go.
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