Chapter 260 The First Appearance of the Three Shadows

Jean Valjean felt nothing. Cosette was less ecstatic than Marius, she was more light-hearted, and this was enough to make Jean Valjean happy.Although Cosette had her thoughts, her sweet worries, and the image of Marius filled her mind, her face, which was so pure and beautiful, was as innocent and smiling as before.She was at the age when virgins embraced Venus and angels embraced lilies.Jean Valjean, therefore, was at ease.And, as soon as the two lovers have made up their minds, things always go well, and the third party who tries to interfere with their sweet dreams is often deceived by the usual tricks--those routinely employed by every lover.So Cosette was obedient to Jean Valjean.Is he going for a walk?OK, my little daddy.Is he going to stay home?great.Was he going to spend the evening with Cosette?She couldn't be happier.As he always went to bed at ten o'clock at night, Marius did not enter the garden until after ten o'clock, when he heard from the street that Cosette had opened the long window on the steps.It goes without saying that Marius never showed his face during the day.Jean Valjean had long since ceased to think of Marius.Only once, one morning, he suddenly said to Cosette: "What's the matter, you have lime on your back!" Marius squeezed Cosette against the wall the night before in a moment of excitement. .

That old Toussaint, who went to bed early, and wanted nothing more than to sleep as soon as the housework was done, was kept in the dark, like Jean Valjean. Marius never entered that room.When he was with Cosette, they hid themselves in a recess near the steps, so that no one in the street could see or hear them, and sat there, talking heart to heart?More often than not, they just squeeze each other's hands, twenty times a minute, and stare blankly at the branches.At such moments, the one's dream is so deep, so deep into the other's dream, that even if the thunder falls within thirty paces of them, it will not disturb them.

Transparent and pure.The moments spent together are almost equally pure.This love is a collection of lily petals and white dove feathers. The whole garden is between them and the street.Every time Marius came in and out, he always rearranged the iron bars that had been moved on the iron gate, so that no trace could be exposed. He often didn't leave until twelve o'clock at night and returned to Courfeyrac's house.Courfeyrac said to Bahoré: "Do you believe it or not? Marius will not be home until one o'clock in the morning!" Bahore replied: "What can you do? Young people are always making jokes."

Sometimes Courfeyrac, with folded arms and a serious countenance, said to Marius: "Young man, you must have worked too hard!" Courfeyrac was a practical man, he did not appreciate the brilliance that was cast on Marius by the invisible heaven, he was not used to those undisclosed passions, he was impatient, and from time to time he warned Marius, I want to bring him back to reality. One morning he reprimanded him thus: "My dear, looking at you, I think you are in the moon, dream country, fantasy province, soap bubble capital now. Let's talk, be a good girl, what's her name?"

But Marius never leaked any news.He would rather have his nails pulled out than utter one of the three syllables that constitute the undeservedly divulged holy name of Cosette.Love is as bright as the dawn and as silent as the grave.But Courfeyrac saw a change in Marius: although he was silent, he was beaming. In this bright May, Marius and Cosette tasted such great happiness: Arguing and addressing you with "you" just to be able to say "you" better later on; To talk endlessly and with as much detail as possible about people who have nothing to do with them, and to prove once again that in such a moving opera as love, the script is almost useless;

For Marius, to hear Cosette talk about clothes; For Cosette, listening to Marius talk about politics; Knee to knee, listening to the carriages go by in the streets of Babylon; The same planet gazing at the sky or the same firefly in the grass; There is more pleasure in sitting together silently than chatting; Etc., etc. But all kinds of troubles are coming. One evening, as he was going to an appointment in the Rue des Invalides, with his head bowed as usual, Marius was turning into the Rue Plumet when he heard someone calling to him: "Good evening, Monsieur Marius." He looked up and recognized Éponine.

It gave him a strange feeling.Since that day when the girl led him to the Rue Plumet, he had not once thought of her, nor had he seen her again; he had completely forgotten her.He was only grateful to her, and he got his happiness today from her, but he was always a little embarrassed when he met her. It would be a mistake to think that happiness and pure affections lead to perfection.We have seen that single-minded affection can only lead to forgetfulness.In this case, one forgets to do bad things, but also forgets to do good things.Feelings of gratitude, responsibility, unnegligible and unpleasant memories are lost.At another moment Marius might have treated Éponine quite differently.Ever since he was attracted to Cosette, he had not even clearly realized that the full name of this Eponine was Eponine Thénardier, and Thénardier's surname was written in his father's will. A month ago, he still had such a strong love for this surname.We write Marius's mood as it is.Even the image of his father had more or less faded from his soul in the light of his love.

He replied with a bit of perplexity: "Ah! Is that you, Éponine?" "Why do you say 'you' to me? Have I offended you somewhere?" "Where?" he replied. Of course, he had no dissatisfaction with her at all.Far from that.But now that he had said "you" to Cosette, there was no other way to say "you" to Éponine. Seeing that he was silent, she cried: "Hey, you..." She stopped again.This girl was so casual and bold in the past, but now she seemed to be at a loss for words.She tried to put on a smile, but couldn't.She continued:

"So……" She stopped talking and stood there with her eyes down. "Good night, Monsieur Marius," she said abruptly, and turned away.