She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Hearl on HounslowHeath. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. Her hair is like, white blonde, but trust me, it’s not her natural color.
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