CHAPTER XXIII. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. Wood, (for I never do anything without consulting my better half,) I'll take the boy, educate him, and bring him up to my own business of a carpenter. A pretty name for a pretty girl. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach. ” Lucy chuckled at the sacrilegious comment, though it was a very old one.
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