I can't bear it. Treasure caves to explore! All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. But one must disguise oneself. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint.
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