Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. Martin’s crush. “Yes, I see that. ’ ‘Sir!’ called Trodger, as the captain began to lead the young lady off. In Paddington. “Mean as an old mule, too. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals.
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