The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. He was asleep. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. Mr.
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