Each time that the woman passed in front of him, he bestowed on her,
together with a puff from his cigar, some apostrophe which he
considered witty and mirthful, such as, “How ugly you are!—Will you get
out of my sight?—You have no teeth!” etc., etc. This gentleman was
known as M. Bamatabois. The woman, a melancholy, decorated spectre
which went and came through the snow, made him no reply, did not even
glance at him, and nevertheless continued her promenade in silence, and
with a sombre regularity, which brought her every five minutes within
reach of this sarcasm, like the condemned soldier who returns under the
rods. The small effect which he produced no doubt piqued the lounger;
and taking advantage of a moment when her back was turned, he crept up
behind her with the gait of a wolf, and stifling his laugh, bent down,
picked up a handful of snow from the pavement, and thrust it abruptly
into her back, between her bare shoulders. The woman uttered a roar,
whirled round, gave a leap like a panther, and hurled herself upon the
man, burying her nails in his face, with the most frightful words which
could fall from the guard-room into the gutter. These insults, poured
forth in a voice roughened by brandy, did, indeed, proceed in hideous
wise from a mouth which lacked its two front teeth. It was Fantine.
At the noise thus produced, the officers ran out in throngs from the
café, passers-by collected, and a large and merry circle, hooting and
applauding, was formed around this whirlwind composed of two beings,
whom there was some difficulty in recognizing as a man and a woman: the
man struggling, his hat on the ground; the woman striking out with feet
and fists, bareheaded, howling, minus hair and teeth, livid with wrath,
horrible.
Suddenly a man of lofty stature emerged vivaciously from the crowd,
seized the woman by her satin bodice, which was covered with mud, and
said to her, “Follow me!”
The woman raised her head; her furious voice suddenly died away. Her
eyes were glassy; she turned pale instead of livid, and she trembled
with a quiver of terror. She had recognized Javert.
The dandy took advantage of the incident to make his escape.
CHAPTER XIII—THE SOLUTION OF SOME QUESTIONS CONNECTED WITH THE
MUNICIPAL POLICE
Javert thrust aside the spectators, broke the circle, and set out with
long strides towards the police station, which is situated at the
extremity of the square, dragging the wretched woman after him. She
yielded mechanically. Neither he nor she uttered a word. The cloud of
spectators followed, jesting, in a paroxysm of delight. Supreme misery
an occasion for obscenity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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