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CHAPTER II
A NEST FOR OWL
AND A WARBLER
It was in front of this Gorbeau house that Jean Valjean
halted. Like wild birds, he had chosen this desert place to
construct his nest.
He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket, drew out a sort of a
pass-key, opened the door, entered, closed it again carefully,
and ascended the staircase, still carrying Cosette.
At the top of the stairs he drew from his pocket anoth-
er key, with which he opened another door. The chamber
which he entered, and which he closed again instantly, was
a kind of moderately spacious attic, furnished with a mat-
tress laid on the floor, a table, and several chairs; a stove
in which a fire was burning, and whose embers were vis-
ible, stood in one corner. A lantern on the boulevard cast a
vague light into this poor room. At the extreme end there
was a dressing-room with a folding bed; Jean Valjean car-
ried the child to this bed and laid her down there without
waking her.
He struck a match and lighted a candle. All this was pre-