Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. The horns were the worst, slipping in and out of tune and rushing the easy sections, fighting everyone else.
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