"
"You! Who are you?" she cried, glaring at us wildly, her hand
to her head. And then she murmured to herself, "Mon Dieu! what
will become of me?"
"We have been imprisoned in the house opposite," I hastened to
explain, disjointedly I am afraid. "And we have escaped. We
cannot get back if we would. Unless you let us enter your room
and give us shelter--"
"We shall be dashed to pieces on the pavement," supplied Marie,
with perfect calmness--nay, with apparent enjoyment.
"Let you in here?" she answered, starting back in new terror;
"it is impossible."
She reminded me of our cousin, being, like her pale and dark-
haired. She wore her hair in a coronet, disordered now. But
though she was still beautiful, she was older than Kit, and
lacked her pliant grace. I saw all this, and judging her nature,
I spoke out of my despair. "Madame," I said piteously, "we are
only boys. Croisette! Come up!" Squeezing myself still more
tightly into my corner of the ledge, I made room for him between
us.
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