Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just now business is bad.
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