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Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. After debating with himself for some time whether he should employ an assistant, or make the attempt alone, his love of gain overcame his fears, and he decided upon the latter plan. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. You and I. I had no idea. I can’t even make myself care. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. " "I wish I could have foreseen.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 09-06-2024 22:13:07
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