’ She had given nothing away. ‘Gone!’ he said. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. There must be ways of getting rid of him. "Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite wonderful. 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. But we're neglecting the punch all this time. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. For a time she furnished the flat. Mark yourself as a charitable man and you’ll be rewarded here and in Heaven.
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