Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. White was scattered across the long stretches of pine trees and corn fields.
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