She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. 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. ” They hesitated. ” She looked at him quizzically. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. Later Lord Charvill told Jarvis that it had been precisely the same at the outset. "You have forgotten your knife, Mr. .
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