Editing Volume 3/Book 8/Chapter 11

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Les Mis&eacute;rables, Volume 3: Marius, Book Eighth: The Wicked Poor Man, Chapter 11: Offers of Service from Misery to Wretchedness<br />
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(Tome 3: Marius, Livre huiti&egrave;me: Le mauvais pauvre, Chapitre 11: Offres de service de la mis&egrave;re &agrave; la douleur)
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==English text==
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Marius ascended the stairs of the hovel with slow steps; at the moment
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when he was about to re-enter his cell, he caught sight of the elder
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Jondrette girl following him through the corridor. The very sight of this
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girl was odious to him; it was she who had his five francs, it was too
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late to demand them back, the cab was no longer there, the fiacre was far
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away. Moreover, she would not have given them back. As for questioning her
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about the residence of the persons who had just been there, that was
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useless; it was evident that she did not know, since the letter signed
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Fabantou had been addressed "to the benevolent gentleman of the church of
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Saint-Jacquesdu-Haut-Pas."
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Marius entered his room and pushed the door to after him.
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It did not close; he turned round and beheld a hand which held the door
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half open.
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"What is it?" he asked, "who is there?"
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It was the Jondrette girl.
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"Is it you?" resumed Marius almost harshly, "still you! What do you want
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with me?"
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She appeared to be thoughtful and did not look at him. She no longer had
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the air of assurance which had characterized her that morning. She did not
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enter, but held back in the darkness of the corridor, where Marius could
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see her through the half-open door.
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"Come now, will you answer?" cried Marius. "What do you want with me?"
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She raised her dull eyes, in which a sort of gleam seemed to flicker
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vaguely, and said:&mdash;
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"Monsieur Marius, you look sad. What is the matter with you?"
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"With me!" said Marius.
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"Yes, you."
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"There is nothing the matter with me."
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"Yes, there is!"
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"No."
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"I tell you there is!"
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"Let me alone!"
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Marius gave the door another push, but she retained her hold on it.
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"Stop," said she, "you are in the wrong. Although you are not rich, you
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were kind this morning. Be so again now. You gave me something to eat, now
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tell me what ails you. You are grieved, that is plain. I do not want you
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to be grieved. What can be done for it? Can I be of any service? Employ
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me. I do not ask for your secrets, you need not tell them to me, but I may
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be of use, nevertheless. I may be able to help you, since I help my
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father. When it is necessary to carry letters, to go to houses, to inquire
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from door to door, to find out an address, to follow any one, I am of
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service. Well, you may assuredly tell me what is the matter with you, and
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I will go and speak to the persons; sometimes it is enough if some one
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speaks to the persons, that suffices to let them understand matters, and
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everything comes right. Make use of me."
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An idea flashed across Marius' mind. What branch does one disdain when one
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feels that one is falling?
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He drew near to the Jondrette girl.
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"Listen&mdash;" he said to her.
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She interrupted him with a gleam of joy in her eyes.
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"Oh yes, do call me thou! I like that better."
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"Well," he resumed, "thou hast brought hither that old gentleman and his
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daughter!"
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"Yes."
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"Dost thou know their address?"
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"No."
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"Find it for me."
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The Jondrette's dull eyes had grown joyous, and they now became gloomy.
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"Is that what you want?" she demanded.
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"Yes."
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"Do you know them?"
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"No."
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"That is to say," she resumed quickly, "you do not know her, but you wish
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to know her."
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This them which had turned into her had something indescribably
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significant and bitter about it.
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"Well, can you do it?" said Marius.
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"You shall have the beautiful lady's address."
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There was still a shade in the words "the beautiful lady" which troubled
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Marius. He resumed:&mdash;
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"Never mind, after all, the address of the father and daughter. Their
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address, indeed!"
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She gazed fixedly at him.
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"What will you give me?"
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"Anything you like."
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"Anything I like?"
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"Yes."
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"You shall have the address."
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She dropped her head; then, with a brusque movement, she pulled to the
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door, which closed behind her.
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Marius found himself alone.
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He dropped into a chair, with his head and both elbows on his bed,
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absorbed in thoughts which he could not grasp, and as though a prey to
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vertigo. All that had taken place since the morning, the appearance of the
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angel, her disappearance, what that creature had just said to him, a gleam
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of hope floating in an immense despair,&mdash;this was what filled his
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brain confusedly.
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All at once he was violently aroused from his revery.
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He heard the shrill, hard voice of Jondrette utter these words, which were
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fraught with a strange interest for him:&mdash;
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"I tell you that I am sure of it, and that I recognized him."
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Of whom was Jondrette speaking? Whom had he recognized? M. Leblanc? The
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father of "his Ursule"? What! Did Jondrette know him? Was Marius about to
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obtain in this abrupt and unexpected fashion all the information without
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which his life was so dark to him? Was he about to learn at last who it
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was that he loved, who that young girl was? Who her father was? Was the
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dense shadow which enwrapped them on the point of being dispelled? Was the
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veil about to be rent? Ah! Heavens!
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He bounded rather than climbed upon his commode, and resumed his post near
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the little peep-hole in the partition wall.
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Again he beheld the interior of Jondrette's hovel.
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