She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. “She has improved her style,” someone declared. ’ ‘I thought you were dead,’ Melusine confided.
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