“Yes, yes,” cries Henriette, “go on!”
“––she was with us, but alas!––poor thing––with the hard life we have to lead––she––she died!”
The searcher for Louise reels as if about to faint.
She collects herself with difficulty, and stares at La Frochard. A distraught look is on the girl’s face.
It is a look of utter misery, compounded with mistrustfulness of the deceiving hag.
She leaves the cellar, fully resolved to 113 invoke the Law––if Law––in this wild time––there can be found...
A bundle of rags, on which Henrietta has almost stepped in passing, moves very slightly.