At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. She waited expectantly. You might get faint, but you can fight it. “In Paris your sister appeared to me to be a charming student of frivolity. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity.
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