Some think the factory was set on fire on purpose; others that it was an accident.

Nothing remains of it but the outer walls and a smoking heap of ruins." My father covered his face with his hand.
"Then, again," pursued La Croissette, "that worthy old Monsieur Laccassagne, unable to stand the deprivation of sleep any longer, has conformed--" "Has he, though!" cried my father, with a start.

"Oh, how sad a fall!" "Outwardly, only outwardly," said La Croissette.

"The poor old gentleman was driven almost out of his senses by that deafening drumming.

'You shall have rest now,' said the bishop.