She hoped that Shari would not be too brokenhearted about her disappearance. ‘I can argue with him very well indeed. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. He deserves none. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. 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. A true nun.
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