A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers.
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