Already Cosette was her chosen friend. . She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. . “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. “I have a letter for you, and no end of messages.
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