Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. For most of a long and fluctuating night she was fairly confident that she would find work; she knew herself to be strong, intelligent, and capable by the standards of most of the girls she knew. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. “As a matter of fact, I deserve to. That knot also would be cut. The next door neighbor's dog, chained outside, let out a single bark, but was silent as soon as she turned in that direction, instinctively afraid. The signal of distress was evidently understood. ‘Come, mademoiselle. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. She knew now that he never would.
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