Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. A piece of seaweed touched her hand, tender and green. He was angry. “Please, Michelle, let’s not fight. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't meddle with anything in that house. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. He fancied, indeed, that he beheld a figure spring upon the starling at the moment when the boats came in contact; but, as he could perceive no one near him, he concluded he must have been mistaken.
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