"And which does not cut?"
"Oh yes, sir," said the child; "it cuts salad and chops flies' heads off."
They reached the village, and Cosette guided the stranger through the streets. When they passed the baker's, Cosette did not think of the loaf which she was to bring in. The man had ceased questioning her, and preserved a gloomy silence; but when they had left the church behind them, on seeing all the open-air shops, he asked Cosette,—
"Is it the fair-time?"
"No, sir, it is Christmas."
When they approached the inn, Cosette touched his arm timidly.
"Sir."
"What is it, my child?"
"We are close to the house."
"Well?"