“It must be, said a warrior.”

“I will pay it,” said the mother. “I have eighty francs. I shall have enough left to reach the country, by travelling on foot. I shall earn money there, and as soon as I have a little I will return for my darling.”

The man’s voice resumed:⁠—

“The little one has an outfit?”

“That is my husband,” said the Thénardier.

“Of course she has an outfit, the poor treasure.⁠—I understood perfectly that it was your husband.⁠—And a beautiful outfit, too! a senseless outfit, everything by the dozen, and silk gowns like a lady. It is here, in my carpetbag.”

“You must hand it over,” struck in the man’s voice again.