This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. . Shall I sew it on for you?" "If you wish. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. She could not part with dignity. “He is addressing a meeting of his constituents somewhere,” Annabel answered. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. My will never faltered. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. . ” “Let me tell you the reason you are here.
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