Quotation from: VilletteWritten by: Charlotte Bronte |
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"Let me pass," pleaded a voice I knew: "I ask but five minutes;" and a familiar shape, tall and grand (as we of the Rue Fossette all thought it), issued from the house, and strode down amongst the beds and walks. It was sacrilege--the intrusion of a man into that spot, at that hour; but he knew himself privileged, and perhaps he trusted to the friendly night. He wandered down the alleys, looking on this side and on that--he was lost in the shrubs, trampling flowers and breaking branches in his search--he penetrated at last the "forbidden walk." There I met him, like some ghost, I suppose.
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