The child, distracted by the arrival of the strangers, was staring at the "young lady," and ceased sobbing.
"Cry, I tell you; roar!" Jondrette whispered to her. At the same time he squeezed her bad hand. All this was done with the talent of a conjurer. The little one uttered piercing cries, and the adorable girl whom Marius called in his heart "his Ursule," eagerly went up to her.
"Poor dear child!" she said.
"You see, respected young lady," Jondrette continued, "her hand is bleeding. It is the result of an accident which happened to her while working at a factory to earn six sous a day. It is possible that her arm will have to be cut off."
"Really?" the old gentleman said in alarm.
The little girl, taking this remark seriously, began sobbing again her loudest.
"Alas, yes, my benefactor!" the father answered.
For some minutes past Jondrette had been looking at the "philanthropist" in a peculiar way, and while speaking seemed to be scrutinizing him attentively, as if trying to collect his remembrances. All at once, profiting by a moment during which the new-comers were questioning the little girl about her injured hand, he passed close to his wife, who was tying in her bed with a surprised and stupid air, and said to her in a hurried whisper,—
"Look at that man!"
Then he turned to M. Leblanc, and continued his lamentations.