John eased off. She stepped on to the pavement almost before him, and his blood turned almost to ice as he saw that she was not alone. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. I fancy that Sir John does not approve of me.
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