And if her ferocious beast of a father lost his treasure, it was his own fault.

After kicking the mother to death, hadn't he murdered the daughter as well?
The two good angels would lie in the pauper's grave and all that could be in store for him was to kick the bucket like a dog in the gutter.
Gervaise restrained herself not to burst out sobbing.

She extended her hands, desirous of easing the child, and as the shred of a sheet was falling, she wished to tack it up and arrange the bed.

Then the dying girl's poor little body was seen.

Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ what misery! What woe! Stones would have wept.