She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. " "Won't you go?" cried Jack passionately. 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. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood.
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