old street,” ejaculated Gavroche, “put on your nightcap.”
And turning to Jean Valjean:—
“What do you call that gigantic monument that you have there at the end of the street? It’s the Archives, isn’t it? I must crumble up those big stupids of pillars a bit and make a nice barricade out of them.”
Jean Valjean stepped up to Gavroche.
“Poor creature,” he said in a low tone, and speaking to himself, “he is hungry.”
And he laid the hundred-sou piece in his hand.
Gavroche raised his face, astonished at the size of this sou; he stared at it in the darkness, and the whiteness of the big sou dazzled him. He knew five-franc pieces by hearsay; their reputation was agreeable to him; he was delighted to see one close to. He said:—