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"Indeed!" said Ursus. "I have not remarked it."
Master Nicless made an observation in an undertone, no doubt touching
the intimacy between the ducal carriage and Tom-Jim-Jack--a remark
which, as it might have been irreverent and dangerous, Ursus took care
not to hear.
Still Ursus was too much of an artist not to regret Tom-Jim-Jack. He
felt some disappointment. He told his feeling to Homo, of whose
discretion alone he felt certain. He whispered into the ear of the wolf,
"Since Tom-Jim-Jack ceased to come, I feel a blank as a man, and a chill
as a poet." This pouring out of his heart to a friend relieved Ursus.
His lips were sealed before Gwynplaine, who, however, made no allusion
to Tom-Jim-Jack. The fact was that Tom-Jim-Jack's presence or absence
mattered not to Gwynplaine, absorbed as he was in Dea.
Forgetfulness fell more and more on Gwynplaine. As for Dea, she had not
even suspected the existence of a vague trouble. At the same time, no
more cabals or complaints against the Laughing Man were spoken of. Hate
seemed to have let go its hold. All was tranquil in and around the Green
Box. No more opposition from strollers, merry-andrews, nor priests; no
more grumbling outside. Their success was unclouded. Destiny allows of
such sudden serenity. The brilliant happiness of Gwynplaine and Dea was
for the present absolutely cloudless. Little by little it had risen to a
degree which admitted of no increase. There is one word which expresses
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