‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. gutenberg.
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