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Les Miserables - Volume 1 - Book 2 - Chapter 1
Episode 1529th April 2024 • Bite at a Time Books • Bree Carlile
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Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the fifteenth chapter of Les Miserables.

Come with us as we release one bite a day of one of your favorite classic novels, plays & short stories. Bree reads these classics like she reads to her daughter, one chapter a day. If you love books or audiobooks and want something to listen to as you're getting ready, driving to work, or as you're getting ready for bed, check out Bite at a Time Books!

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>> Speaker A: Take a look, in the book and let's see

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what we can find.

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Take it chapter by chapter. One

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fight M at a time

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so many adventures and

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mountains we can climb

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to give word for word, line by

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line, one bite at a time.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome.

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>> Brie Carlisle: To bite at a time books where we read you your favorite

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classics one byte at a time. my name is Bre

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Carlisle and I love to read and wanted to share

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support the show and YouTube, where we have special

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behind the narration of the episodes were part

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of the byte at a Time Books productions network. If

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youd also like to hear what inspired your favorite classic

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authors to write their novels and what was going

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on in the world at the time, check out the bite at a time

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books behind the story podcast. Wherever you

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listen to podcasts, please note,

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while we try to keep the text as close to the original as

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possible, some words have been changed

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to honor the marginalized communities whove identified the

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words as harmful and to stay in alignment

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with byte at a time books brand.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Values today well be

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continuing.

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Les Miserable by Victor Hugo

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Book Second the fall

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chapter one the evening of a day of

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walking, early in the

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month of October, 1815, about

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an hour before sunset, a man who was traveling

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on foot entered the little town of Dee. The

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few inhabitants who were at their windows or on their thresholds at the

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moment stared at this traveler with a sort of

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uneasiness it was difficult to encounter.

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A wayfarer of more wretched appearance. He was a

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man of medium stature, thick set and

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robust. In the prime of life, he might

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have been 46 or 48 years old.

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A cap with a drooping leather visor partly concealed,

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his face burned and tanned by sun and

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wind and dripping with perspiration.

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His shirt, of coarse yellow linen, fastened at

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the neck by a small silver anchor, permitted, a view

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of his hairy breast. He had a cravat

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twisted into a string, trousers of blue

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drilling worn and threadbare white on one

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knee and torn on the other. An old grey

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tattered blouse patched on one of the elbows with a bit of

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green cloth sewed on with twine, a tightly

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packed soldier knapsack well buckled and perfectly new

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on his back, an enormous knotty stick in his

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hand, iron shod shoes on his stockingless

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feet, a shaved head and a long beard.

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The sweat, the heat, the journey

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on foot, the dust added, I know not what sordid

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quality to this dilapidated hole. His hair

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was closely cut, yet bristling, for it had begun

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to grow a little and did not seem to have been cut for some

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time. No one knew him.

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He was evidently only a chance passerby. whence

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came he?

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>> Brie Carlisle: from the south?

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>> Brie Carlisle: From the seashore, perhaps, for he made his

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entrance into d by the same street, which seven

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months previously, had witnessed the passage of the emperor

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Napoleon on his way from Caen to Paris.

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This man must have been walking all day. He

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seemed very much fatigued. Some women of the

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ancient market town, which is situated below the city, had

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seen him pause beneath the trees of the boulevard gassendi, and

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drink at the fountain, which stands at the end of the promenade.

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He must have been very thirsty, for the children who followed him

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saw him stop again for a drink 200 paces

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further on at the fountain in the marketplace.

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On arriving at the corner of the rue Pochevre,

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he turned to the left and directed his steps toward the town

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hall. He entered, then

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came out. A quarter of an hour later, gendarme,

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was seated near the door on the stone bench which General

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Dreaux had mounted on the 4 march to read to the frightened

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throng of the inhabitants of d. The proclamation of the

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gulf one. The man pulled off his cap and

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humbly saluted the gendarme. The gendarme,

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without replying to his salute, stared attentively at

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him, followed him for a while with his eyes, and then entered the

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town hall. There then existed at

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d a fine inn at the sign of the cross of Colbes.

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This inn had for a landlord, a certain Jacquin le

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bear a man of consideration in the town on account of

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his relationship to another labert, who kept the

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inn of the three Dauphines in Grenoble and

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had served in the guides at the time of the emperors

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landing. Many rumors had circulated throughout the

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country with regard to this inn of the three Dauphines.

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It was said that General Bertrand, disguised as a

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carter, had made frequent trips thither in the month of January,

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and that he had distributed crosses of honor to the soldiers

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and handfuls of gold to the citizens.

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The truth is that when the emperor entered Grenoble, he had

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refused to install himself at the hotel of the

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prefecture. He had thanked the mayor, saying, im

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going to the house of a brave man of my acquaintance. And

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he had betaken himself to the three Dauphines.

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This glory of the liber of the three Dauphines was

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reflected upon the liber.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Of the cross of Colbes, at a.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Distance of five and 20 leagues, it was said of him

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in the town, that is the cousin of the man of

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Grenoble.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man bent his steps towards this.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Inn, which was the best in the countryside.

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He entered the kitchen, which opened on a level with the

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street.

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>> Brie Carlisle: All the stoves were lighted.

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>> Brie Carlisle: A, huge fire blazed gaily in the fireplace.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The host, who was also the chief.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Cook, was going from one stewpan to another, very

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busily superintending an excellent dinner designed for the

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wagoners, whose loud talking

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conversation and laughter were audible from an adjoining

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apartment. Anyone who has traveled

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knows that there is no one who indulges in better cheer than

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wagoners.

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>> Brie Carlisle: A fat marmot flanked by white partridges.

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>> Brie Carlisle: And heathercocks was turning on a long spit before the

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fire. On the stove, two huge carps

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from.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Lake Lisette and trout from Lake Alice were

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cooking. The host, hearing the door open

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and seeing a newcomer enter, said, without raising.

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>> Brie Carlisle: His eyes from his stoves, what do you wish,

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sir?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Food and lodging, said the man. Nothing

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easier, replied the host. At that

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moment he turned his head, took in the travelers

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appearance with a single glance, and added, by

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paying for it. The man drew a large

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leather purse.

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>> Brie Carlisle: From the pocket of his blouse and.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Answered, I have money.

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>> Brie Carlisle: in that case, were at your.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Service, said the host.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man put his purse back in his pocket, removed

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his knapsack from his back, put it on the ground near the

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door, retained his stick in his hand, and seated

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himself on a low.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Stool close to the fire.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Dee is in the mountains. The evenings are cold there

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in October. But as the host went back and

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forth, he scrutinized the traveler. Will

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dinner be ready soon? Said the man.

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Immediately, replied the landlord.

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While the newcomer was warming himself before the fire with his

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back turned, the.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Worthy host, Jacquin le Bear, drew a pencil from his

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pocket, then tore off.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The corner of an old newspaper which.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Was lying on a small table near the window.

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>> Brie Carlisle: On the white margin he wrote a line or two,

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folded it without sealing.

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>> Brie Carlisle: And then entrusted the scrap of paper.

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>> Brie Carlisle: To a child who seemed to serve him in the

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capacity both of scullion and lackey. the landlord whispered

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a word in the scullion's ear. And the child set off on a run in the

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direction of the town hall. The traveler saw

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nothing of this. Once more he inquired,

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will dinner be ready soon? Immediately,

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responded the host. The child

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returned.

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>> Brie Carlisle: He brought back the paper. The host unfolded

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it eagerly like a person who's expecting a reply.

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>> Brie Carlisle: He seemed to read it attentively, then,

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tossed his head and remained thoughtful for a moment.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Then he took a step in the.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Direction of the traveler, who appeared to be immersed in reflections

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which were not very serene.

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>> Brie Carlisle: I cannot receive you, sir, said he.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man half rose. What, are you

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afraid that I will not pay you? Do you want me to pay you in

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advance? I have money.

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>> Brie Carlisle: I tell you it is not that.

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>> Brie Carlisle: What, then?

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>> Brie Carlisle: You have money?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Yes, said the man.

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>> Brie Carlisle: And I, said, the host, have.

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>> Brie Carlisle: No room, the man resumed

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tranquilly.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Put me in the stable.

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>> Brie Carlisle: I cannot.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Why?

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>> Brie Carlisle: The horses take up all the space.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Very well, retorted the man. A corner

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of the loft, then a truss of straw. We

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will see about that after dinner.

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>> Brie Carlisle: I cannot give you any dinner.

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>> Brie Carlisle: This declaration, made in a measured but.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Firm tone, struck the stranger his grave.

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He rose. Ah, bah.

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>> Brie Carlisle: But I am dying of hunger. Ive been walking since

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sunrise. Ive traveled twelve leagues. I

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pay. I wish to eat.

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>> Brie Carlisle: I have nothing, said the landlord.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man burst out laughing and turned towards the fireplace

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and the stoves. Nothing. And all

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that.

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>> Brie Carlisle: All that is engaged.

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>> Brie Carlisle: By whom?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Messiers, the wagoners.

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>> Brie Carlisle: How many are there of them?

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>> Brie Carlisle: twelve.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Theres enough food there for 20.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Theyve engaged the whole of it and paid for it in advance.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man seated himself again and said, without raising his

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voice, im at an inn. I am hungry,

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and I shall remain. then the host bent down to his ear and

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said in a tone which made him start, go

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away. At that moment,

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the traveler was bending forward and thrusting some brands

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into the fire. With the iron shot tip of his staff,

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he turned quickly round, and as, he opened his mouth to reply,

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the host gazed steadily at him and added, still in a low

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voice, stop.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Theres enough of that sort of talk. Do you want me to tell

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you your name? Your name is Jean Valjean.

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Now do you want me to tell you who you are? When I saw

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you come in, I suspected something I sent to

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the town hall, and this was the reply that was sent to me.

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Can you read?

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>> Brie Carlisle: So saying, he held out to the stranger, Foley

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unfolded the paper which had just traveled from the inn to the town

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hall, and from the town hall to the inn.

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The man cast a glance upon it. The landlord

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resumed after a pause.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Im in the habit of being polite to everyone.

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Go away.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man dropped his head, picked up the knapsack

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which he had deposited on the ground, and took his

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departure. He chose the principal street.

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He walked straight on at a venture, keeping close to the

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houses like a sad and humiliated man.

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He did not turn around a single time. Had

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he done so, he would have seen the host of the cross of Colbus standing

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on his threshold, surrounded by all the guests of his

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inn and all the passersby in the street,

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talking vivaciously and pointing him out with his finger.

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And from the glances of terror and distrust cast

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by the group, he might.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Have divined that his arrival would speedily.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Become an event for the whole town. He saw

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nothing of this. People who are crushed do not

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look behind them. They know but too well the evil fate

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which follows them. Thus he proceeded for

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some time, walking on without ceasing,

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traversing it. Random streets of which he knew nothing.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Forgetful of his fatigue, as is often.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The case when a man is sad all at once

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he felt the pangs of hunger sharply. Night

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was drawing near. He glanced about him to see

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whether he could not discover some shelter. The fine

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hostelry was closed to him. He was seeking some

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very humble public house, some hovel,

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however lowly. Just then a

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light flashed up at the end of the streets. A pine

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branch suspended from a crossbeam of iron was outlined against the

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white sky of the twilight. He proceeded

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thither. It proved to be, in fact,

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a public house. The public house, which is

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the rue des chefo. The wayfarer halted

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for a moment and peeped through the window into the interior of the

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low studded room of the public house, illuminated by

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a small lamp on a table and by a large fire on the

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hearth. Some men were engaged in drinking

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there. The landlord was warming himself.

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An iron pot suspended from a crane bubbled

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over the flame. The entrance to this public

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house, which is also a sort of an inn.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Is by two doors.

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>> Brie Carlisle: One opens on the street, the other upon a

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small yard filled with manure. The traveler dare

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not enter by the street door. He slipped into the

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yard, halted again, then raised the latch

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timidly and opened the door. Who goes

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there? Said the master. Someone who wants

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supper in bed. Good. We furnished supper and

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bed here he entered. All the

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men who were drinking turned round. The lamp

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illuminated him on one side, the firelight on

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the other. They examined him for some time. While he

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was taking off his knapsack, the host said to

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him, theres the fire, the suppers cooking in the

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pot come and warm yourself, comrade.

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He approached and seated himself near the hearth.

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He stretched out his feet, which were.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Exhausted with fatigue, to the fire.

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>> Brie Carlisle: A fine odor was emitted by the pot.

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All that could be distinguished of his face beneath his cap, which

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was well pulled down, assumed a vague appearance of

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comfort mingled with that other poignant

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aspect which habitual suffering bestows.

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It was, moreover, a firm, energetic

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and melancholy profile. This

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physiognomy was strangely composed. It

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began by seeming humble and ended by seeming

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severe. The eye shone beneath its lashes like a

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fire beneath brushwood.

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One of the men seated at the table, however, was a

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fishmonger, who, before entering the public house of the rue

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Deschafeau, had been to stable his horse at labers.

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It chanced that he had, that very morning encountered

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this unprepossessing stranger on the road between Bras

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d'Ace and Ive forgotten the

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name. I think it was Escublan.

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Now, when he met him, the man, who then seemed

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already extremely weary, had requested him to take him

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on his crupper, which the fishmonger had made no

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reply except by redoubling his

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gait. This fishmonger had been a member

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half an hour previously of the group which surrounded Jacquin

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Lebert and had himself related his

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disagreeable encounter of the morning to.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The people at the cross of Colbes.

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>> Brie Carlisle: From where he sat, he made an imperceptible sign

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to the tavern keeper. The tavern keeper went

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to him. They exchanged a few words in a low

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tone. The man had again become absorbed in

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his reflections. The tavern keeper returned to

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the fireplace, laid his hand abruptly on the shoulder of the

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man, and said to him.

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>> Brie Carlisle: You'Re going to get out of here.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The stranger turned round and replied gently,

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ah, you know.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Yes.

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>> Brie Carlisle: I was sent away from the other.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Inn, and youre to be turned out of this one.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Where would you have me go?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Elsewhere.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The man took his stick in his knapsack and

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departed. As he went out, some

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children who had followed him from the cross of Colbus and who

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seemed to be lying in wait for him, threw stones at

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him. He retraced his steps in anger and

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threatened them with his stick. The children dispersed

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like a flock of birds. He passed before the

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prison. At the door hung an iron chain attached

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to a bell. He rang the

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wicket, opened turnkey. said he, removing

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his cap politely, will you have the kindness

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to admit me and give me a lodging for the night?

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>> Brie Carlisle: A voice replied, the prison is

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not an inn. Get yourself arrested and you

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will be admitted.

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>> Brie Carlisle: The wicket closed again. He entered a

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little street in which there were many gardens.

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Some of them are enclosed only by hedges, which lends a

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cheerful aspect to the street. In the midst of

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these gardens and.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Hedges, he caught sight of a small.

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>> Brie Carlisle: House of a single story, the, window of which was lighted

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up. He peered through the pane as he had done at the

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public house. Within was a large

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whitewashed room with a bed draped in printed cotton

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stuff and a cradle in one corner, a

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few wooden chairs and a double barreled gun hanging on the

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wall. A table was spread in the center of the

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room. A copper lamp illuminated the

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tablecloth of coarse white linen, the pewter

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jug shining like silver and filled with wine, and the

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brown smoking soup tureen. At

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this table sat a man of about 40 with a

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merry and open countenance, who was dandling a

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little child on his knees. Close by. A

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very young woman was nursing another child.

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The father was laughing. The child was

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laughing. The mother was smiling. The

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stranger paused a moment in reverie. Before this tender and

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calming spectacle. What was taking place

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within him, he alone could have told.

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It is probable that he thought that this joyous house would

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be hospitable, and that in a place where he beheld so

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much happiness, he would find perhaps a little

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pity. He tapped on the pane with a

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very small and feeble knock. They did not hear

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him. He tapped again. He heard

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the woman say, it seems to me, husband,

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that someone is knocking. No, replied the

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husband. He, tapped a third time.

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The husband rose, took the lamp, and

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went to the door, which he opened.

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>> Brie Carlisle: He was a man of lofty stature.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Half peasant, half artisan. He wore a

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huge leather apron which reached to his left shoulder,

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in which a hammer, a red handkerchief, a powder

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horn, and all sorts of objects which were upheld by the

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girdle, as in a pocket, caused a bulge out.

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He carried his head thrown backwards, his

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shirt, widely opened and turned back,

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displayed his bull neck, white and bare.

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He had thick eyelashes, enormous black

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whiskers, prominent eyes, the lower part

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of his face like a snout. And besides all this,

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that air of being on his own ground, which is

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indescribable. Pardon me, sir,

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said the wayfarer, could you, in

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consideration of payment, give me a plate of

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soup and a corner of that shed yonder in the garden in which to

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sleep? Tell me, can you, for

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money?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Who are you?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Demanded the master of the house, the man

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replied. I have just come from Poit Maison.

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I have walked all day long. Ive traveled twelve

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leagues. Can you? If I

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pay?

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>> Brie Carlisle: I would not refuse, said the peasant

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to lodge any respectable man who would pay me.

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Why do you not go to the inn?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Theres no room.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Impossible. This is neither a fair nor

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market day. Have you been to labarre?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Yes. Well, the traveler

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replied with embarrassment. I do not know. He

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did not receive me.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Have you been to whats names in the rue Chaufeux?

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>> Brie Carlisle: A strangers? Embarrassment increased. He

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stammered, he did not receive me

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either. The peasants countenance assumed an

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expression of distrust.

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He surveyed the newcomer from head to feet.

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And suddenly exclaimed with a sort of.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Shudder, are you the man?

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>> Brie Carlisle: He cast a fresh glance upon the stranger, took

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three steps backwards. Placed the lamp on the

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table. And took his gun down from the wall.

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Meanwhile, at the words, are you the man? The woman had

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risen, had clasped her two children in her arms.

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And had taken refuge precipitately behind her husband.

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Staring in terror at the stranger. With her bosom

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uncovered and with frightened eyes, she murmured

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in a low tone, Shau Murad.

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All this took place in less time than it requires to picture it to

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oneself. After having scrutinized the man for several

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moments. As one scrutinizes a viper. The

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man of the house returned to the door and said, clear

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out, for pitys sake. A glass of water,

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said the man.

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>> Brie Carlisle: A shot from my gun, said, the peasant.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Lennie closed the door violently. And the man heard him shoot

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two large bolts. A moment later, the window

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shutter was closed. And the sound of a bar of iron which was placed

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against it. Was audible outside. Night

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continued to fall. A cold wind from the

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Alps was blowing. By the light of the expiring

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day. The, stranger perceived in one of the gardens which bordered the

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street. A sort of hut which

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seemed to him to be built of sods. He

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climbed over the wooden fence resolutely. And found himself in the

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garden. He approached the hut.

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Its store consisted of a very low and narrow

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aperture. And it resembled those buildings. Which

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road laborers construct for themselves along the roads.

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He thought without doubt that it was in fact

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the dwelling of a road laborer. He was suffering from

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cold and hunger, but this was at least a shelter from the

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cold. This sort of dwelling is

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not usually occupied at night. He threw himself

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flat on his face. And crawled into the hut.

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It was warm there, and he found a tolerably

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good bed of straw. He lay for a moment

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stretched out on this bed. Without the power to make a

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movement. So fatigued was he

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then. As the knapsack on his back was in his way.

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And as it furnished, moreover, a pillow ready to his

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hand. He set about unbuckling one of the

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straps. At that moment, a ferocious

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growl became audible. He raised his

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eyes. The head of an enormous dog was

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outlined in the darkness at the entrance of the hut.

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It was a dogs kennel. He

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himself vigorous and formidable. He armed himself with

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his staff, made a shield of his knapsack, and made his way out

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of the kennel in the best way he could, not without

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enlarging the rents in its rags. He left the

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garden in the same manner but backwards, being

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obliged in order to keep the dog respectful, to

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have recourse to that maneuver with his stick, which masters in that

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sort of fencing designate as larose couvre.

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When he had not without difficulty

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repassed the fence and found himself once more in

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the street, alone, without

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refuge, without shelter, without a roof over

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his head, chased even from that bed of straw and

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from that miserable kennel, he

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dropped rather than seated himself on a

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stone. And it appears that a passerby heard

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him exclaim, I am not even a dog.

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He soon rose again and resumed his march.

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He went out of the town, hoping to find some tree or

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haysack in the fields which would afford him shelter.

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He walked thus for some time with his head still

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drooping. When he felt himself far from every

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human habitation, he raised his eyes and gazed

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searchingly about him. He was in a field.

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Before him was one of those low hills covered with close cut

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stubble, which after the harvest resemble

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shaved heads. The horizon was perfectly

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black. This was not alone the

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obscurity of night. It was caused by very low

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hanging clouds, which seemed to rest upon the hill

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itself, and which were mounting and filling the whole

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sky. Meanwhile, as the moon was about to

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rise, and as, there was still floating in the zenith a remnant of

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the brightness of twilight, these clouds

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formed at the summit of the sky a sort of whitish

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arch, whence a gleam of light fell upon the

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earth. The earth was thus better lighted than the

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sky, which produces a particularly

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sinister effect in the hill, whose

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contour was poor and mean, was outlined, vague and

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wan against the gloomy horizon. The whole

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effect was hideous, petty, lugubrious

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and narrow. There was nothing in the field or

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on the hill except a deformed tree which

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writhed and shivered a few paces distant from the

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wayfarer. This man was evidently

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very far from having those delicate habits of intelligence and

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spirit which render one sensible to the mysterious

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aspects of things. Nevertheless, there was

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something in that sky, in that hill, in that

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plain, in that tree, which was so

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profoundly desolate that after a moment of immobility

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and reverie, he turned back

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abruptly. There are instants when

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nature seems hostile. He retraced his

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steps. The gates of D were closed.

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D, which had sustained sieges during the wars of religion,

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was still surrounded in 1815 by

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ancient walls flanked by square towers, which,

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have been demolished since he passed

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through a breach and entered the town again.

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It might have been 08:00 in the evening. As he was

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not acquainted with the streets, he recommenced his walk

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at random. in this way he came to the prefecture, then to the

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seminary. As he passed through the cathedral

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square, he shook his fist at the church. At

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the corner of this square, theres a printing establishment.

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It is there that the proclamations of the emperor and

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of the imperial guard to the army, brought from the island of

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Elba and dictated by Napoleon himself, were printed for

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the first time. Worn out with

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fatigue and no longer entertaining any hope,

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he lay down on a stone bench which stands at the doorway of this

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printing office. At that moment,

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an old woman came out of the church. She saw the

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man stretched out in the shadow.

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>> Brie Carlisle: What are you doing there, my friend?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Said she. he answered harshly and angrily,

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as you see, my good woman, I am sleeping.

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The good woman, who was well worthy of the name, in

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fact, was the Marquis d'art. On

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this bench, she went on, ive had

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a mattress of wood for 19 years, said the

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man. Today I have a mattress of stone.

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>> Brie Carlisle: You have been a soldier?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Yes, my good woman, a soldier.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Why do you not go to the inn?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Because I have no money.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Alas, said Madame des are.

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I have only four sous in my purse.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Give it to me all the same.

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The man took the four sous. Madame de

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ar continued, you cannot obtain.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Lodgings in an inn for so small a sum.

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But have you tried? It is impossible for you

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to pass the night thus. You are cold and

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hungry. No doubt someone might have given you a

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lodging out of charity.

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>> Brie Carlisle: ive knocked at all doors. Well,

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ive been driven away everywhere. The

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good woman touched the mans arm and pointed out to him,

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on the other side of the street, a small low house

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which stood beside the bishops palace.

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>> Brie Carlisle: You have knocked at all doors?

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>> Brie Carlisle: Yes.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Have, you knocked at that one? No

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knock there.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while

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we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

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Again, my name is Brie Carlisle, and I

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hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of

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le Miserable M.

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>> Brie Carlisle: dont forget to sign up for our

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newsletter@byteadatimebooks.com and check

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out the shop. You can check out the show notes or

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our website, byteaditimebooks.com, for

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the rest of the links for our show. Wed love to

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hear from you on social media as well.

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>> Speaker A: So many adventures and

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mountains we can climb

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to get words go word line by

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line, one bite at a time.

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