“As I have explained many a time, Lucia, the maladies of the blood and flesh do not afflict us. In this part of the world it is wise never to be separated from your luggage. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness.
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