” “I know. " So saying, he unlocked the door and strode out of the room. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. "Tom! Hey, Tom!" The Chinese cook thrust his head into the dining room. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. Much to her annoyance, therefore, Winifred was left alone with the woollendraper, who following up a maxim of his own, "that nothing was gained by too much bashfulness," determined to profit by the opportunity.
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