“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.
“Of course I shall give it to