He's coming. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. 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.
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