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Such were these two beings. Cosette was between them,
subjected to their double pressure, like a creature who is
at the same time being ground up in a mill and pulled to
pieces with pincers. The man and the woman each had a
different method: Cosette was overwhelmed with blows—
this was the woman’s; she went barefooted in winter— that
was the man’s doing.
Cosette ran up stairs and down, washed, swept, rubbed,
dusted, ran, fluttered about, panted, moved heavy arti-
cles, and weak as she was, did the coarse work. There was
no mercy for her; a fierce mistress and venomous master.
The Thenardier hostelry was like a spider’s web, in which
Cosette had been caught, and where she lay trembling. The
ideal of oppression was realized by this sinister household.
It was something like the fly serving the spiders.
The poor child passively held her peace.
What takes place within these souls when they have but
just quitted God, find themselves thus, at the very dawn of
life, very small and in the midst of men all naked!