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Les Miserables - Volume 1 - Book 7 - Chapter 7
Episode 6114th June 2024 • Bite at a Time Books • Bree Carlile
00:00:00 00:13:42

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Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the sixty-first 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!

Follow, rate, and review Bite at a Time Books where we read you your favorite classics, one bite at a time. Available wherever you listen to podcasts.

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If you ever wondered what inspired your favorite classic novelist to write their stories, what was happening in their lives or the world at the time, check out Bite at a Time Books Behind the Story wherever you listen to podcasts.

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Transcripts

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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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my passion with listeners like you. If you want

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to know whats coming next and vote on upcoming

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books, sign up for our

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newsletter@biteattimebooks.com dot.

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Youll also find our new t shirts in the shop,

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including podcast shirts and quote shirts from your

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favorite classic novels. Be sure to follow my

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show on your favorite podcast platform so you get all the new

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episodes. You can find most of our links in the

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show notes, but also our website,

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byteadatimebooks.com includes all of the links for

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our show, including to our Patreon to

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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

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time books behind the story podcast. Wherever

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you 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 les miserable by Victor

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Hugo chapter Seven

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the Traveler, on his arrival, takes

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precautions for departure.

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It was nearly 08:00 in the evening when

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the cart which we left on the road entered the porte cochere

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of the Hotel de la Poste in Arras.

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The man whom we have been following up to this moment

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alighted from it, responded with an abstracted

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air to the attentions of the people of the inn, sent

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back the extra horse, and with his own hands led the

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little white horse to the stable. Then he

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opened the door of a billiard room which was situated on the ground

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floor, sat down there, and leaned his elbows on

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a table. He had taken 14 hours for the

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journey, which he had counted on making in six.

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He did himself the justice to acknowledge that it was not

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his fault, but at the bottom he was not sorry.

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The landlady of the hotel entered. Does

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Monsieur wish a bed? Does Monsieur require

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supper? He made the sign of the head in the

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negative. The stableman says that

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Monsieur's horse is extremely fatigued

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here. He broke his silence. Will not the

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horse be in a condition to set out again tomorrow morning? Oh,

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monsieur, he must rest for two days at least.

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He inquired, is not the posting station

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located here? Yes, sir.

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The hostess conducted him to the office. He

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showed his passport and inquired whether there was any way of returning that

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same night to M. M, sir. M. By the mail wagon.

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The seat beside the postboy chanced to be vacant.

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He engaged it and paid for it.

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Monsieur, said the clerk, do not fail

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to be here. Ready to start at precisely 01:00 in the

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morning. This done, he left the hotel

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and began to wander about the town. He was not

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acquainted with Aerys. The streets were dark and

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he walked on at random, but he seemed bent

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upon not asking the way of the passersby.

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He crossed the little river Crenshen and found himself

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in a labyrinth of narrow alleys where he lost his way.

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A citizen was passing along without a lantern.

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After some hesitation, he decided to apply to this

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man, not without having first glanced

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behind and in front of him, as though he feared

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lest someone should hear the question which he was about to put.

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Monsieur, said he, where, is the

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courthouse, if you please.

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>> Brie Carlisle: You do not belong in town, sir.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Replied the bourgeois, who was an oldish man.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Well, follow me. I happen to be going in the

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direction of the court house, that is to say,

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in the direction of the hotel of the prefecture, for the

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courthouse is undergoing repairs just at this moment,

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and the courts are holding their sittings provisionally. In the

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prefecture.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Is it there the assizes are held? He

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asked.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Certainly, sir. You see, the prefecture of

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today was the bishops palace. Before the revolution,

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Monsieur de Condes, who was bishop in 82,

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built a grand hall there. It is in this grand hall

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that the court is held.

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>> Brie Carlisle: On the way, the bourgeois said to.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Him, if Monsieur desires to witness a

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case, it is rather late. The sittings

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generally close. At 06:00.

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>> Brie Carlisle: When they arrived on the grand square, however, the

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man pointed out to him four long windows, all lighted up

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in the front of a vast and gloomy building.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Upon my word, sir, you are in luck.

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You have arrived in season. Do you see those four

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windows? That is the court of assizes.

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There is light there, so they are not through. The matter

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must have been greatly protracted, and they are holding an evening

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session. Do you take an interest in this

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affair? Is this a criminal case?

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Are you a witness?

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>> Brie Carlisle: He replied. I have not come on any business.

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I only wish to speak to one of the lawyers.

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>> Brie Carlisle: That is different, said the burgoy.

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Stop, sir. Here is the door where the sentry stands.

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You have only to ascend the grand staircase.

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>> Brie Carlisle: He conformed to the burgoys directions, and

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a few minutes later he was in a hall containing many people,

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and where groups intermingled with lawyers in their

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gowns were whispering together here and there.

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It is always a heartbreaking thing to see these

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congregations of men robed in black,

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murmuring together in low voices on the threshold

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of the halls of justice. It is rare that

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charity and pity are the outcome of these words.

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Condemnations pronounced in advance are m more likely to be

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the result. All these groups seem to the

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passing and thoughtful observer so many somber hives,

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where buzzing spirits construct in concert all sorts of dark

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edifices. This spacious

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hall, illuminated by a single lamp, was the

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old hall of the episcopal palace and served as

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the large hall of the palace of Justice. A

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double leaved door, which was closed at that moment,

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separated it from the large apartment where the court was

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sitting. The obscurity was such that he

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did not fear to accost the first lawyer whom he met.

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What stage have they reached, sir? He asked.

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It is finished, said the lawyer.

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Finished. This word was repeated

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in such accents that the lawyer turned round.

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Excuse me, sir. Perhaps youre a relative?

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No, I, know no one here. Has judgment

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been pronounced? Of course. Nothing else was

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possible. To penal servitude

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for life, he continued in a

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voice so weak that it was barely audible.

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Then his identity was established. What

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identity? Replied the lawyer. There was no

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identity to be established. The matter was very

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simple. The woman had murdered her child,

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the infanticide was proved, the jury threw out the question

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of premeditation, and she was condemned for life.

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So it was a woman, said he. why,

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certainly. Limousine woman. What are you

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speaking? Nothing.

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But since it is all over, how comes it that the hall is

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still lighted for another case which was begun

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about 2 hours ago? What other

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case? Oh, this one is a clear case

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also. It is about a sort of blackguard, a

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man arrested for a second offense, a convict who

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has been guilty of theft. I dont know its name

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exactly. Theres a bandits fizz for you. Ill

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send him to the galleys on the strength of his face alone.

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Is there any way of getting into the courtroom, sir? Said

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he. I really think that there is not.

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Theres a great crowd. However, the hearing has been

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suspended. Some people have gone out, and when

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the hearing is resumed, you might make an effort. Wheres

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the entrance? Through yonder large door.

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The lawyer left him. In the course of a few

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moments. He had experienced almost

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simultaneously, almost intermingled with each other

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all possible emotions. The words of

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this indifferent spectator had in turn pierced his heart like

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needles of ice and like blades of fire. When

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he saw that nothing was settled, he breathed freely once

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more. But he could not have told whether what he felt

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was pain or pleasure. He drew

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near to many groups and listened to what they were saying.

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The docket of the session was very heavy.

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The president had appointed for the same day two short

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and simple cases. They had begun with the

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infanticide, And now they had reached the convict,

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the old offender, the return

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horse. This man had stolen apples. But

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that did not appear to be entirely proved.

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What had been proved was that he had already been in the galleys at

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Toulon. It was that which lent a bad

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aspect to this case. However, the mans

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examination and the depositions of the witnesses had been

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completed. But the lawyers

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plea and the speech of the public

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prosecutor was still to come. It could not be

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finished before midnight. The man would probably

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be condemned. The attorney general was

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very clever and never missed his culprits. He was a

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brilliant fellow who wrote verses. An

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usher stood at the door, communicating with the hall of

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assizes. He inquired of this usher,

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will the door be opened soon, sir? It will not

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be opened at all, replied the usher.

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What? It will not be opened when the hearing is

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resumed. Is not the hearing suspended?

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The hearing has just begun again, replied the

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usher. But the door will not be opened again.

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Why? Because the hall is full.

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What? Theres not room for one more?

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Not another one. The door is closed. No

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one can enter now, the usher added after

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a pause. There are, to tell the

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truth, two or three extra places behind Monsieur le president.

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But Monsieur le president only admits public functionaries to

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them. So saying, the usher turned his

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back. He retired with bowed

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head, traversed the antechamber, and slowly

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descended the stairs as though hesitating at every

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step. It is probable that

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he was holding council with himself. The violent

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conflict which had been going on within him since the preceding

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evening was not yet ended, and every moment

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he encountered some new phase of it. On

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reaching the landing place, he leaned his back against the balusters

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and folded his arms. All at once

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he opened his coat, drew out his

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pocketbook, took from it a pencil,

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tore out a leaf, and upon that leaf he wrote rapidly, by

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the light of the street lantern, this line

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Monsieur Madeleine, mayor of M. Sur M.

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Then he ascended the stairs once more, with great

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strides, made his way through the crowd, walked

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straight up to the usher, handed him the paper, and said in an

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authoritative manner. Take this to Monsieur

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le president. The usher took the

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paper, cast a glance upon it, and

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obeyed.

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Thank you for joining Bite at a time books today while we read

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a bite of one of your favorite classics.

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Again, my name is Brie Carlisle,

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and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next

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bite of Le Miserable.

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

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newsletter@biteattitimebooks.com. and check

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

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our website, biteadatatimebooks.com, for

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the rest of the links for our show. wed love to hear from you on

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social media as well.

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>> Brie Carlisle: Line by.

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>> Speaker A: Line, one bite at a time.

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