‘Exactly like my father. Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. He entered the driver’s side, not inserting the keys in the ignition. Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. You tell me he didn't like the stuff. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads.
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