It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. “Bother!” and decided that this was not so, and would not look to right or left again. "I don't see why I should be obliged to pay for doing my duty. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting.
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