1712 Les Miserables
I’m the person who was charged to investigate this matter.’
It is remarkable that Eponine did not talk slang. That
frightful tongue had become impossible to her since she had
known Marius.
She pressed in her hand, small, bony, and feeble as
that of a skeleton, Guelemer’s huge, coarse fingers, and
continued:—
‘You know well that I’m no fool. Ordinarily, I am be-
lieved. I have rendered you service on various occasions.
Well, I have made inquiries; you will expose yourselves to
no purpose, you see. I swear to you that there is nothing in
this house.’
‘There are lone women,’ said Guelemer.
‘No, the persons have moved away.’
‘The candles haven’t, anyway!’ ejaculated Babet.
And he pointed out to Eponine, across the tops of the
trees, a light which was wandering about in the mansard
roof of the pavilion. It was Toussaint, who had stayed up to
spread out some linen to dry.
Eponine made a final effort.
‘Well,’ said she, ‘they’re very poor folks, and it’s a hovel
where there isn’t a sou.’
‘Go to the devil!’ cried Thenardier. ‘When we’ve turned
the house upside down and put the cellar at the top and the
attic below, we’ll tell you what there is inside, and whether
it’s francs or sous or half-farthings.’
And he pushed her aside with the intention of entering.
‘My good friend, Mr. Montparnasse,’ said Eponine, ‘I en-
treat you, you are a good fellow, don’t enter.’