She set about arranging the table; her husband paced the room. A moment later he added:⁠—

“I owe full fifteen hundred francs!”

He went and seated himself in the chimney-corner, meditating, with his feet among the warm ashes.

“Ah! by the way,” resumed his wife, “you don’t forget that I’m going to turn Cosette out of doors today? The monster! She breaks my heart with that doll of hers! I’d rather marry Louis XVIII than keep her another day in the house!”

Thénardier lighted his pipe, and replied between two puffs:⁠—

“You will hand that bill to the man.”

Then he went out.

Hardly had he left the room when the traveller entered.