Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. She tried to scream, \"I'm coming to you, Mama!\" But no sound would come from her mouth. "Were you present at the time of the robbery?" pursued Jonathan. “I want a plain word with you about all this.
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