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ert was a symbol. His brow was not visible; it disappeared
beneath his hat: his eyes were not visible, since they were
lost under his eyebrows: his chin was not visible, for it was
plunged in his cravat: his hands were not visible; they were
drawn up in his sleeves: and his cane was not visible; he
carried it under his coat. But when the occasion presented
itself, there was suddenly seen to emerge from all this shad-
ow, as from an ambuscade, a narrow and angular forehead,
a baleful glance, a threatening chin, enormous hands, and
a monstrous cudgel.
In his leisure moments, which were far from frequent,
he read, although he hated books; this caused him to be not
wholly illiterate. This could be recognized by some empha-
sis in his speech.
As we have said, he had no vices. When he was pleased
with himself, he permitted himself a pinch of snuff. Therein
lay his connection with humanity.
The reader will have no difficulty in understanding that
Javert was the terror of that whole class which the annual
statistics of the Ministry of Justice designates under the ru-
bric, Vagrants. The name of Javert routed them by its mere
utterance; the face of Javert petrified them at sight.
Such was this formidable man.
Javert was like an eye constantly fixed on M. Madeleine.
An eye full of suspicion and conjecture. M. Madeleine had
finally perceived the fact; but it seemed to be of no impor-
tance to him. He did not even put a question to Javert; he
neither sought nor avoided him; he bore that embarrassing
and almost oppressive gaze without appearing to notice it.