On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. So I come suppliant. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyNy43Mi4xNSAtIDIyLTA5LTIwMjQgMTM6MTY6MDAgLSAyMTQzODcyNTUy
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