Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. ” She laughed. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Did you grow up at the Valade estates? You were born a Valade, I take it, even though your father is English.
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