What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. " "Graves. ” She noted that as a good saying, and it germinated and spread tentacles of explanation through her brain. It wasn’t pretty. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
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