‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. Anna and her escort exchanged glances. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on.
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