"Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan. Her head swam. Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. "O God!" he exclaimed, "I am severely punished. His name is carved upon a beam up stairs. But, if you have any particular fancy for hanging the gentleman, who chose to take the law into his own hands—and I think your motive extremely disinterested and praiseworthy—why, it's just possible, if you make it worth my while, that your desires may be gratified. He had only been prevented, indeed, by a fear of Mrs. Blueskin fought his way towards it, and exerting all his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded, reached it at the same time. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. Before Wood had time to inquire into the cause of this sound, his attention was diverted by a man, who rushed past the entry with the swiftness of desperation.
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