\" Diane chirped once again, ever-musical. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. . Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said.
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