The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. "Jump!" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder. "By desire of his Majesty," said the jailer, consequentially. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. Lives by his wits and gambling. Already Cosette was her chosen friend.
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