" He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. . ’ ‘Probably not. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. I cannot work, I cannot teach. Mrs. Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind.
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