Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. \" He commented heartily, wiping the sweat from his brow with his hand. Somehow I haven’t connected the idea with you. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked.
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