’ ‘I see now how it was that Marthe knew of the secret passage,’ Melusine said. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. “It is not that. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. “I do not blame him.
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