Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. You don’t happen to know of any one, I suppose, who wants a nursery governess, or a clerk—without shorthand—or a tryer-on, or a copyist, or——” “For Heaven’s sake stop, Miss Pellissier,” he interrupted. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. Then he sensed the trap. CHAPTER XVI. He had a blue overstuffed couch, his own television, even a computer with its own desk. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious.
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