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.

"See, Madame," I cried, craftily, "will you not have pity on three boys ?" St.Crois's boyish face and fair hair arrested her attention, as I had expected.

Her expression grew softer, and she murmured, "Poor boy!" I caught at the opportunity.