And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. . ’ She counted off on her fingers. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind.
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