She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. The cage has a strong door, with an iron grating at the top, and further secured by a stout bolt and padlock. “What happened to your parents, Lucy? Is it all right if I ask?” Lucy looked at her with a soft gaze. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjIxMC45NiAtIDAyLTA2LTIwMjQgMDQ6NTE6NDcgLSAxMjYzODA4NDIw
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