Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered.
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