“Not really. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. Spit of your mother. When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. "How?" cried her brother, starting. It has been only the sort of nonsense which passes lightly enough between half the men and women in London. ’ ‘Yes,’ agreed Lucilla excitedly, ‘and she has been telling us how much of a friend she was to your mother. Only that I was prevented by one of those soldiers that caught me in the big house. . ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes.
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