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Updated: June 25, 2025
Fauchelevent, who was deadly pale, stared at this Gribier. He was a tall, thin, livid, utterly funereal man. He had the air of an unsuccessful doctor who had turned grave-digger. Fauchelevent burst out laughing. "Ah!" said he, "what queer things do happen! Father Mestienne is dead, but long live little Father Lenoir! Do you know who little Father Lenoir is? He is a jug of red wine.
Jean Valjean had arranged things so that he could exist there, and he could almost breathe. It is a strange thing to what a degree security of conscience confers security of the rest. Every combination thought out by Jean Valjean had been progressing, and progressing favorably, since the preceding day. He, like Fauchelevent, counted on Father Mestienne. He had no doubt as to the end.
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