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But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. But finding his hints totally disregarded, he, at length, swaggered up to the table, and thrust in a chair. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Good night. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave.

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