“Twenty-six sous!” exclaimed his wife.
“Twenty sous for the chamber,” resumed Thénardier, coldly, “and six sous for his supper. As for the child, I must discuss that matter a little with the gentleman. Leave us, wife.”
Madame Thénardier was dazzled as with the shock caused by unexpected lightning flashes of talent. She was conscious that a great actor was making his entrance on the stage, uttered not a word in reply, and left the room.
As soon as they were alone, Thénardier offered the traveller a chair. The traveller seated himself; Thénardier remained standing, and his face assumed a singular expression of good-fellowship and simplicity.
“Sir,” said he, “what I have to say to you is this, that I adore that child.”
The stranger gazed intently at him.
“What child?”
Thénardier continued:—
“How strange it is, one grows attached. What money is that? Take back your hundred-sou piece. I adore the child.”
“Whom do you mean?” demanded the stranger.