Sebastian dared not approach her. He's got the gift of the gab. " "Pshaw!" said Wild. 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. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. “John, don’t!” she cried. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned.
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