Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She moaned as he buried himself completely to the hilt. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. “You will be so late. M.
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