melted all the ice of that numbed heart.

Being now no longer embarrassed with a secret, the little hunchback could
give greater efficacy to his good offices. Toinette became to him a
sister, for whose wants he had a right to provide. It was the first time
since the death of his mother that he had been able to share his life
with another. The young woman received his attentions with feeling, but
with reserve. All Maurice's efforts were insufficient to dispel her
gloom: she seemed touched by his kindness, and sometimes expressed her
sense of it with warmth; but there she stopped. Her heart was a closed
book, which the little hunchback might bend over, but could not read. In
truth he cared little to do so; he gave himself up to the happiness of
being no longer alone, and took Toinette such as her long trials had made
her; he loved her as she was, and wished for nothing else but still to
enjoy her company.

This thought insensibly took possession of his mind, to the exclusion of
all besides. The poor girl was as forlorn as himself; she had become
accustomed to the deformity of the hunchback, and she seemed to look on
him with an affectionate sympathy! What more could he wish for? Until
then, the hopes of making himself acceptable to a helpmate had been
repelled by Maurice as a dream; but chance seemed willing to make it a
reality. After much hesitation he took courage, and decided to speak to
her.

It was evening; the little hunchback, in much agitation, directed his
steps toward the work-woman's garret just as he was about to enter, he
thought he heard a strange voice pronouncing the maiden's name. He
quickly pushed open the door, and perceived Toinette weeping, and leaning
on the shoulder of a young man in the dress of a sailor.