"A man!" "At your service, my dear," replied the jailer. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. I tried to have it out with him, but he wouldn’t have it out. Then he got up and left her. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. “You pushed the wheel from my hand. Now, do what you please. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound.
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