The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. " "How!" ejaculated Trenchard, starting back and drawing his sword. "I have good news for you. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. Families had seen their lands seized, their chateaux ransacked or burned, and those unlucky enough to have failed to anticipate disaster, had been murdered or dragged away to gaol. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too.
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