each other mutually hideous and complementing each other; the
pettifogger making the bird of prey ignoble, the bird of prey making the
pettifogger horrible.

This man had a long gray beard. He was clad in a woman's chemise, which
allowed his hairy breast and his bare arms, bristling with gray hair,
to be seen. Beneath this chemise, muddy trousers and boots through which
his toes projected were visible.

He had a pipe in his mouth and was smoking. There was no bread in the
hovel, but there was still tobacco.

He was writing probably some more letters like those which Marius had
read.

On the corner of the table lay an ancient, dilapidated, reddish volume,
and the size, which was the antique 12mo of reading-rooms, betrayed a
romance. On the cover sprawled the following title, printed in large
capitals: GOD; THE KING; HONOR AND THE LADIES; BY DUCRAY DUMINIL, 1814.

As the man wrote, he talked aloud, and Marius heard his words:--

"The idea that there is no equality, even when you are dead! Just look
at Pere Lachaise! The great, those who are rich, are up above, in the
acacia alley, which is paved. They can reach it in a carriage. The
little people, the poor, the unhappy, well, what of them? they are put
down below, where the mud is up to your knees, in the damp places. They
are put there so that they will decay the sooner! You cannot go to see
them without sinking into the earth."

He paused, smote the table with his fist, and added, as he ground his
teeth:--

"Oh! I could eat the whole world!"

A big woman, who might be forty years of age, or a hundred, was
crouching near the fireplace on her bare heels.

She, too, was clad only in a chemise and a knitted petticoat patched
with bits of old cloth. A coarse linen apron concealed the half of her
petticoat. Although this woman was doubled up and bent together, it
could be seen that she was of very lofty stature. She was a sort of
giant, beside her husband. She had hideous hair, of a reddish blond
which was turning gray, and which she thrust back from time to time,
with her enormous shining hands, with their flat nails.

Beside her, on the floor, wide open, lay a book of the same form as the
other, and probably a volume of the same romance.

On one of the pallets, Marius caught a glimpse of a sort of tall pale
young girl, who sat there half naked and with pendant feet, and who did
not seem to be listening or seeing or living.

No doubt the younger sister of the