When Gavroche had disappeared at the corner of the Rue des Ballets, Babet took Thénardier aside.
“Did you take a good look at that young ’un?” he asked.
“What young ’un?”
“The one who climbed the wall and carried you the rope.”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, I don’t know, but it strikes me that it was your son.”
“Bah!” said Thénardier, “do you think so?”
BOOK SEVENTH—SLANG
