BOOK THIRD.--ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE PROMISE MADE TO THE DEAD WOMAN CHAPTER VIII THE UNPLEASANTNESS OF RECEIVING INTO ONE'S HOUSE A POOR MAN WHO MAY BE A RICH MAN Cosette could not refrain from casting a sidelong glance at the big doll, which was still displayed at the toy-merchant's; then she knocked. The door opened. The Thenardier appeared with a candle in her hand. "Ah! so it's you, you little wretch! good mercy, but you've taken your time! The hussy has been amusing herself!" "Madame," said Cosette, trembling all over, "here's a gentleman who wants a lodging." The Thenardier speedily replaced her gruff air by her amiable grimace, a change of aspect common to tavern-keepers, and eagerly sought the new-comer with her eyes. "This is the gentleman?" said she. "Yes, Madame," replied the man, raising his hand to his hat. Wealthy travellers are not so polite. This gesture, and an inspection of the stranger's costume and baggage, which the Thenardier passed in review with one glance, caused the amiable grimace to vanish, and the gruff mien to reappear. She resumed dryly:-- "Enter, my good man." The "good man" entered. The Thenardier cast a second glance at him, paid particular attention to his frock-coat,
wholesale jordans which was absolutely threadbare, and to his hat, which was a little battered, and, tossing her head, wrinkling her nose, and screwing up her eyes, she consulted her husband, who was still drinking with the carters. The husband replied by that imperceptible movement of the forefinger, which, backed up by an inflation of the lips, signifies in such cases: A regular beggar. Thereupon, the Thenardier exclaimed:-- "Ah! see here, my good man; I am very sorry, but I have no room left." "Put me where you like," said the man; "in the attic, in
Michael Kors wallet the stable. I will pay as though I occupied a room." "Forty sous." "Forty sous; agreed." "Very well, then!" "Forty sous!" said a carter, in a low tone, to the Thenardier woman; "why, the charge is only twenty sous!" "It is forty in his case," retorted the Thenardier, in the same tone. "I don't lodge poor folks for less." "That's true," added her husband, gently; "it ruins a house to have such people in it." In the meantime, the man, laying his bundle and his cudgel on a bench, had seated himself at a table, on which Cosette made haste to place a bottle of wine and a glass. The merchant who had demanded the bucket of water took it to his horse himself. Cosette resumed her place under the kitchen table, and her knitting. The man, who had barely moistened his lips in the wine which he had poured out for himself, observed the child with peculiar attention. Cosette was ugly. If she had been happy, she might have been pretty. We have already given a sketch of that sombre little figure. Cosette was thin and pale; she was nearly eight years
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