Already Cosette was her chosen friend. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. “Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. On the whole, I think that I have been disappointed with the life here. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history. ” She side-stepped into his living room from behind a square white column.
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