"No, sir."
There was another interruption, and then Cosette raised her voice,—
"That is to say, there are two little girls."
"What little girls?"
"Ponine and Zelma."
The child simplified in this way the romantic names dear to Madame Thénardier.
"Who are they?"
"They are Madame Thénardier's young ladies, as you may say,—her daughters."
"And what do they do?"
"Oh!" said the child, "they have handsome dolls, and things all covered with gold. They play about and amuse themselves."