It is quite a descent from the clouds, isn’t it?” “I will accept that,” Anna said, “as accounting for the surprise. "Mother!" cried Jack, springing towards her. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. It’s an instinct.
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