To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. Certainly not a gentlewoman. “I suppose I shall have to write an answer. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. I'm entirely at your service. You do not believe me. ” Her hand fell back into her lap. She had resisted as long as she could; then she had stolen over. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTcuMTY0LjE1MiAtIDI2LTA2LTIwMjQgMTE6MjI6MjcgLSAxNjY5MDI3NDkz
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