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"They can't go into the Condemned Hold," said Ireton, consequentially; "it's against Mr. ” “We might even have—given it up for them!” “I wonder if we could. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. She winced as he thrust the fact at her, was about to answer, and checked herself. 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.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 23:59:32