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M. Bamatabois was one of the jurors. He looked for Javert, but did not see him; the seat of the witnesses was hidden from him by the clerk's table, and then, as we have just said, the hall was sparely lighted. At the moment of this entrance, the defendant's lawyer had just finished his plea.
This dandy was smoking, for he was decidedly fashionable. Each time that the woman passed in front of him, he bestowed on her, together with a puff from his cigar, some apostrophe which he considered witty and mirthful, such as, "How ugly you are! Will you get out of my sight? You have no teeth!" etc., etc. This gentleman was known as M. Bamatabois.
A man, placed among the privileged spectators who were seated behind the court, had just risen, had pushed open the half-door which separated the tribunal from the audience, and was standing in the middle of the hall; the President, the district-attorney, M. Bamatabois, twenty persons, recognized him, and exclaimed in concert: "M. Madeleine!" It was he, in fact.
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