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something. He traversed a corridor and came upon a stair-
case. There he heard a very faint and gentle sound like the
breathing of a child. He followed this sound, and came to a
sort of triangular recess built under the staircase, or rather
formed by the staircase itself. This recess was nothing else
than the space under the steps. There, in the midst of all
sorts of old papers and potsherds, among dust and spiders’
webs, was a bed—if one can call by the name of bed a straw
pallet so full of holes as to display the straw, and a coverlet
so tattered as to show the pallet. No sheets. This was placed
on the floor.
In this bed Cosette was sleeping.
The man approached and gazed down upon her.
Cosette was in a profound sleep; she was fully dressed.
In the winter she did not undress, in order that she might
not be so cold.
Against her breast was pressed the doll, whose large
eyes, wide open, glittered in the dark. From time to time
she gave vent to a deep sigh as though she were on the point
of waking, and she strained the doll almost convulsively in
her arms. Beside her bed there was only one of her wooden
shoes.
A door which stood open near Cosette’s pallet permitted
a view of a rather large, dark room. The stranger stepped
into it. At the further extremity, through a glass door, he
saw two small, very white beds. They belonged to Eponine
and Azelma. Behind these beds, and half hidden, stood an
uncurtained wicker cradle, in which the little boy who had
cried all the evening lay asleep.