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. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. The windows which were about nine feet from the floor, had no glass; but were secured by thick iron bars, and an oaken beam. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. mm. ‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed.
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