The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. Passing thought. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
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