2250 Les Miserables
shock, trembled in every limb.
M. Gillenormand went on:
‘Yes, you shall have her, that pretty little girl of yours. She
comes every day in the shape of an old gentleman to inquire
after you. Ever since you were wounded, she has passed her
time in weeping and making lint. I have made inquiries.
She lives in the Rue de l’Homme Arme, No. 7. Ah! There we
have it! Ah! so you want her! Well, you shall have her. You’re
caught. You had arranged your little plot, you had said to
yourself:—‘I’m going to signify this squarely to my grand-
father, to that mummy of the Regency and of the Directory,
to that ancient beau, to that Dorante turned Geronte; he has
indulged in his frivolities also, that he has, and he has had
his love affairs, and his grisettes and his Cosettes; he has
made his rustle, he has had his wings, he has eaten of the
bread of spring; he certainly must remember it.’ Ah! you
take the cockchafer by the horns. That’s good. I offer you
a cutlet and you answer me: ‘By the way, I want to marry.’
There’s a transition for you! Ah! you reckoned on a bicker-
ing! You do not know that I am an old coward. What do you
say to that? You are vexed? You did not expect to find your
grandfather still more foolish than yourself, you are wast-
ing the discourse which you meant to bestow upon me, Mr.
Lawyer, and that’s vexatious. Well, so much the worse, rage
away. I’ll do whatever you wish, and that cuts you short,
imbecile! Listen. I have made my inquiries, I’m cunning
too; she is charming, she is discreet, it is not true about the
lancer, she has made heaps of lint, she’s a jewel, she adores
you, if you had died, there would have been three of us, her