” “Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course. ‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. Her faith in human beings revived.
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