But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it. Things happen to women—proper women—and all they have to do is to take them well. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick.
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