Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. They did not want her. "You are my prisoner, Jack. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. It's too hard. Once before—but that had been different. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. "I likes to hear vot you says. Why would militia be infesting the place? And he must by now be aware of my interest. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy.
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