Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. Beauty has bloomed and faded. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. His complexion was as blue as a sailor's jacket, and though Mr. 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. Caution forced her to speak calmly.
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