His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. They will find me dead, yes. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. Such was the effect produced upon the passengers by his good looks and manly deportment, that few—especially of the gentler and more susceptible sex—failed to turn round and bestow a second glance upon the handsome stranger. “Please stay,” she said briefly. “Further than that, I am amazed that you should dare to allude to those few moments, to that single moment of folly. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. I haven’t, anyhow.
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