She had caught sight of the fallen Marius, and she hurried to his side.

Tressan sped after her and between them they raised the boy and helped him to a chair, where he now sat, passing a heavy hand across his no doubt aching brow.
Clearly he was recovering, from which Garnache opined with regret that his blow had been too light.

The Dowager turned to Fortunio, who had approached her, and her eyes seemed to take fire at something that he told her.
"Garnache ?" the Parisian heard her say, and he saw Fortunio jerk his thumb in the direction of the barricade.
She appeared to forget her son; she stepped suddenly from his side, and peered through the doorway at the stalwart figure of Garnache, dimly to be seen through the pile of furniture that protected him to the height of his breast.

No word said she to the Parisian.

She stood regarding him a moment with lips compressed and a white, startled, angry face.