She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. . The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. She shook her head.
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