"As I can; they let me be, but I have not many toys. Ponine and Zelma do not like me to play with their dolls, and I have only a little leaden sword, no longer than that." The child held out her little finger. "And which does not cut?" "Oh yes, sir," said the child; "it cuts salad and chops flies' heads off." They reached the village, and Cosette guided the stranger through the streets. When they passed the baker's, Cosette did not think of the loaf which she was to bring in. The man had ceased questioning her, and preserved a gloomy silence; but when they had left the church behind them, on seeing all the open-air shops, he asked Cosette,-- "Is it the fair-time?" "No, sir, it is Christmas." When they approached the inn, Cosette touched his arm timidly. "Sir." "What is it, my child?" "We are close to the house." "Well?" "Will you let me carry my bucket now?" "Why?" "Because Madame will be at me if she sees that it has been carried for me." The man gave her the bucket, and a moment later they were at the door of the pot-house. CHAPTER VIII. IS HE RICH OR POOR? Cosette could not refrain from taking a side glance at the large doll which was still displayed at the toy-shop, and then tapped at the door; it opened, and Madame Thénardier appeared, candle in hand. "Oh, it's you, you little devil! Well, I'll be hanged if you have not taken time enough; you've been playing, I expect." "Madame," said Cosette, with a violent tremor, "this gentleman wants a bed-room." Madame Thénardier exchanged her coarse look for an amiable grimace,--a change peculiar to landladies,--and greedily turned her eyes on the new-comer. "Is this the gentleman?" she said. "Yes, Madame," the man answered, touching his hat. Rich travellers are not so polite. This gesture and the inspection of the stranger's clothes and luggage, which the landlady took in at a glance, caused the amiable grimace to disappear and the rough look to return. She continued dryly,-- "Come in, my good man." The "good man" entered; the landlady gave him a second look, carefully examined his threadbare coat and broken-brimmed hat, and consulted her husband, who was still drinking with the carter, by a toss of the head, a curl of her nose, and a wink. The husband answered with that imperceptible movement of the forefinger which, laid on the puffed-out lips, signifies, "No go!" Upon this the landlady exclaimed,-- "My good man, I am very sorry, but I haven't a bed-room disengaged." "Put me where you like," the man said,--"in the loft or the stable. I will pay as if it were a bed-room." "Forty sous." "Be it so." "Forty sous!" a carrier whispered to the landlady; "why, it is only twenty sous." "It's forty for a man like him," Madame Thénardier replied in the same tone; "I do not lodge poor people under." "That is true," the husband added gently; "it injures a house to have customers of that sort."