“—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. But no more of that. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter. Her two new friends did their best to entertain her. But tell me one thing I don’t understand—tell me one thing: How can you help it by coming down into the battle and the mire? That’s the thing that concerns me. I've come to take you back home. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. "Can't!" repeated his mother. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. . It doesn't annoy me; it only disturbs me. They are their mother’s sons.
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