From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. But, no. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. 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. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. He loved you. "Wretch!" cried Jack. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. So there is no escape. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Let's get one idea into our heads. How dreary it all looks.
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