1730 Les Miserables
of his physical than of his moral nature, but he felt himself
giving way internally. For four years he had been waiting
for Marius, with his foot firmly planted, that is the exact
word, in the conviction that that good-for-nothing young
scamp would ring at his door some day or other; now he had
reached the point, where, at certain gloomy hours, he said
to himself, that if Marius made him wait much longer—It
was not death that was insupportable to him; it was the idea
that perhaps he should never see Marius again. The idea of
never seeing Marius again had never entered his brain un-
til that day; now the thought began to recur to him, and it
chilled him. Absence, as is always the case in genuine and
natural sentiments, had only served to augment the grand-
father’s love for the ungrateful child, who had gone off like a
flash. It is during December nights, when the cold stands at
ten degrees, that one thinks oftenest of the son.
M. Gillenormand was, or thought himself, above all
things, incapable of taking a single step, he—the grandfa-
ther, towards his grandson; ‘I would die rather,’ he said to
himself. He did not consider himself as the least to blame;
but he thought of Marius only with profound tenderness,
and the mute despair of an elderly, kindly old man who is
about to vanish in the dark.
He began to lose his teeth, which added to his sadness.
M. Gillenormand, without however acknowledging
it to himself, for it would have rendered him furious and
ashamed, had never loved a mistress as he loved Marius.
He had had placed in his chamber, opposite the head
of his bed, so that it should be the first thing on which his