” “I’m curious. . Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. ‘No, Melusine. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese.
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