Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. My, um, my curfew. But first, we’ve got to secure the convent.
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