"You!" cried Jack, scornfully. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets. But I'm thinking of asking Josh Durkin. You don’t understand, Lucy, they just aren’t like that.
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