” She massaged him. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. I just thought perhaps a different boy was in store for you. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. “I am sick of it. “My sister is sure to be out. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. 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. “One can talk without undertones, so to speak,” said Ramage. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. "With all my heart!" replied Wood.
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