“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. “I can say no more. Anybody in pain had only to call to him. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Tell Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. He took up his hat and went.
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