He took a glance at the bill, and could not restrain a start of surprise. Twenty-three francs! He looked at the landlady and repeated, "Twenty-three francs?" There was in his pronunciation of the two words the accent which separates the point of exclamation from the point of interrogation. Madame Thénardier had had time to prepare for the collision, and hence answered with assurance,—
"Yes, sir, twenty-three francs."
The stranger laid five five-franc pieces on the table.
"Go and fetch the girl," he said.
At this moment Thénardier walked into the middle of the room and said,—
"The gentleman owes twenty-six sous."
"Twenty-six sous!" the wife exclaimed.
"Twenty sous for the bed-room," Thénardier continued coldly, "and six for the supper. As for the girl, I must talk a little with the gentleman first. Leave us, wife."
The landlady had one of those bedazzlements which unforeseen flashes of talent produced; she felt that the great actor had come on the stage, made no answer, and went out. So soon as they were alone Thénardier offered the traveller a chair. He sat down; Thénardier remained standing, and his face assumed a singular expression of kindliness and simplicity.
"I must tell you," he said, "sir, that I adore the child."