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Updated: April 30, 2025
What was I? One of the conquered. Oh! if Cosette's six hundred thousand francs were mine . . ." "They are yours," interrupted Jean Valjean. "Well," resumed Marius, "I would give them all to find that man once more." Jean Valjean remained silent. The night of the 16th to the 17th of February, 1833, was a blessed night. Above its shadows heaven stood open.
Jean Valjean rallied after this semi-swoon, shook his brow as though to make the shadows fall away from it and became almost perfectly lucid once more. He took a fold of Cosette's sleeve and kissed it. "He is coming back! doctor, he is coming back," cried Marius. "You are good, both of you," said Jean Valjean. "I am going to tell you what has caused me pain.
'Place this for me, said a feminine voice. He turned swiftly. It was Cosette's voice! There she stood, exquisitely and miraculously dressed, behind his chair, holding a note of the Bank of France in her gloved hand! 'When did you come? he asked loudly, in his extreme astonishment. 'Pstt! she smilingly admonished him for breaking the rule of the saloons. 'Place this for me.
This road, through which Cosette had passed, excluded for him all possibility of any other itinerary. Jean Valjean entered his lodgings. He lighted his candle and mounted the stairs. The apartment was empty. Even Toussaint was no longer there. Jean Valjean's step made more noise than usual in the chambers. All the cupboards stood open. He penetrated to Cosette's bedroom.
As she had seated herself beside him and leaned her head against him, Jean Valjean had fancied that she was asleep. He bent down and looked at her. Cosette's eyes were wide open, and her thoughtful air pained Jean Valjean. She was still trembling. "Are you sleepy?" said Jean Valjean. "I am very cold," she replied. A moment later she resumed: "Is she still there?" "Who?" said Jean Valjean.
For the wolf loved the lamb, for the fierce creature adored the feeble one, for, during the space of nine years, the angel had had the monster as her point of support. Cosette's childhood and girlhood, her advent in the daylight, her virginal growth towards life and light, had been sheltered by that hideous devotion.
And on the following day, a magnificent dress of tea-rose colored moire antique was added to Cosette's wedding presents. From these fripperies, the grandfather extracted a bit of wisdom. "Love is all very well; but there must be something else to go with it. The useless must be mingled with happiness. Happiness is only the necessary. Season that enormously with the superfluous for me.
With Cosette's garter, Homer would construct the Iliad. He would put in his poem, a loquacious old fellow, like me, and he would call him Nestor. My friends, in bygone days, in those amiable days of yore, people married wisely; they had a good contract, and then they had a good carouse. As soon as Cujas had taken his departure, Gamacho entered.
All at once, the clock struck. Marius glanced at Cosette's charming bare arm, and at the rosy things which were vaguely visible through the lace of her bodice, and Cosette, intercepting Marius' glance, blushed to her very hair. Quite a number of old family friends of the Gillenormand family had been invited; they pressed about Cosette.
Meanwhile, the traveller had risen to his feet. "What is the matter?" he said to the Thenardier. "Don't you see?" said the Thenardier, pointing to the corpus delicti which lay at Cosette's feet. "Well, what of it?" resumed the man. "That beggar," replied the Thenardier, "has permitted herself to touch the children's doll!"
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