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CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. “You are talking like a boy. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. \"Some of them don't smell so good. 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. It’s just that I want to say. “You must tell me the truth, please.
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