God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr.
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