“That’s annoying,” said Gringoire.

The priest, in an instant, became cold and calm again.

“And who the devil,” resumed the poet, “has amused himself with soliciting a decree of reintegration? Why couldn’t they leave parliament in peace? What harm does it do if a poor girl takes shelter under the flying buttresses of Notre-Dame, beside the swallows’ nests?”

“There are sat�ns in this world,” remarked the archdeacon.

“‘Tis devilish badly done,” observed Gringoire.

The archdeacon resumed after a silence, —

“So, she saved your life?”