Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. It was not a hard face, but it was resolute. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. A lesson learned. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace.
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