After a moment he inquired:—
“Where do you live, little one?”
“At Montfermeil, if you know where that is.”
“That is where we are going?”
“Yes, sir.”
He paused; then began again:—
“Who sent you at such an hour to get water in the forest?”
“It was Madame Thénardier.”
The man resumed, in a voice which he strove to render indifferent, but in which there was, nevertheless, a singular tremor:—
“What does your Madame Thénardier do?”