’ Her face fell. shouldn’t be friends. “One has such ridiculous ideas of the wicked common people and the beautiful machinery of order that ropes them in. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual. ’ Lucilla frowned. 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. She had gladly lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to in front of the fine ladies and lords, as she was more interested in their clothing and fripperies than their faces. CHAPTER I. .
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