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‘I must, for that the pig has already gone to monsieur le baron. You saw him? You have been to Remenham House?’ ‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. And Rollo, who had been waiting for some encouraging sound, presented himself at the doorway.
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