Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. ‘You are wise, Marthe. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded.
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