"Oh!
Monsieur, times are so hard! and then, we have so few bourgeois in the neighborhood!
All the people are poor, you see.
If we had not, now and then, some rich and generous travellers like Monsieur, we should not get along at all.
We have so many expenses.
Just see, that child is costing us our very eyes."
"What child?"
"Why, the little one, you know!
Cosette--the Lark, as she is called hereabouts!"
"Ah!" said the man.
She went on:--
"How stupid these peasants are with their nicknames!
She has more the air of a bat than of a lark.
You see, sir, we do not ask charity, and we cannot bestow it.
We earn nothing and we have to pay out a great deal.
The license, the imposts, the door and window tax, the hundredths!
Monsieur is aware that the government demands a terrible deal of money.
And then, I have my daughters. I have no need to bring up other people's children."
The man resumed, in that voice which he strove to render indifferent, and in which there lingered a tremor:--
"What if one were to rid you of her?"