Her mind went on generalizing. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers.
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