Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. "Gentlemen of the Mint," said the orator, "when I was first called, some fifty years ago, to the important office I hold, there existed across the water three places of refuge for the oppressed and persecuted debtor. She did not want to go to the doctor's people; however kindly that might be, they would be only curious strangers. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. If only we are not divided.
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