Part 7 Then one day a little thing happened that clothed itself in significance. Let me see my child, if he is really here?" "Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute, but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading him towards her. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. It’s gone. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done.
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