this
day，just
as he
reached
the low
door of
his
retreat
and was
preparing
to in the
lock the
small and
intricate
key he
always
carried
about with
him in the
pouch
hanging at
his
side，the
jingle of
a
tambourine
and of
castanets
suddenly
smote on
his
ear，rising
up from
the place
du
parvis.the
cell，as we
have
said，had
but one
window
looking
over the
transept
roof.claude
frollo
hastily
withdrew
the
key，and in
