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Marius returned from Vernon on the third day, in the
middle of the morning, descended at his grandfather’s door,
and, wearied by the two nights spent in the diligence, and
feeling the need of repairing his loss of sleep by an hour at
the swimming-school, he mounted rapidly to his chamber,
took merely time enough to throw off his travelling-coat,
and the black ribbon which he wore round his neck, and
went off to the bath.
M. Gillenormand, who had risen betimes like all old
men in good health, had heard his entrance, and had made
haste to climb, as quickly as his old legs permitted, the stairs
to the upper story where Marius lived, in order to embrace
him, and to question him while so doing, and to find out
where he had been.
But the youth had taken less time to descend than the old
man had to ascend, and when Father Gillenormand entered
the attic, Marius was no longer there.
The bed had not been disturbed, and on the bed lay,
outspread, but not defiantly the great-coat and the black
ribbon.
‘I like this better,’ said M. Gillenormand.
And a moment later, he made his entrance into the sa-
lon, where Mademoiselle Gillenormand was already seated,
busily embroidering her cart-wheels.
The entrance was a triumphant one.
M. Gillenormand held in one hand the great-coat, and in
the other the neck-ribbon, and exclaimed:—
‘Victory! We are about to penetrate the mystery! We are
going to learn the most minute details; we are going to lay