Wagner had just been in love when he wrote it all. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. Ann Veronica found herself in the presence of the most disconcerting fact in human experience, the kindliness of people you believe to be thoroughly wrong. Mr. . Why? Here was a curtain indeed. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. "But, pardon my intrusion.
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