‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. “But who’s going to pay for the room?” “I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. " "There's no hurry. She then dried her eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him. 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. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned.
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