"As I was coming along just now," Jean Valjean replied, "I saw a very pretty piece of furniture at a cabinet-maker's in the Rue St. Louis. If I were a pretty woman, I should treat myself to it It is a very nice toilette table in the present fashion, made of rosewood, I think you call it, and inlaid. There is a rather large glass with drawers, and it is very nice." "Hou! the ugly bear!" Cosette replied. And clenching her teeth, and parting her lips in the most graceful way possible, she blew at Jean Valjean; it was a grace imitating a cat. "I am furious," she went on, "and since yesterday you have all put me in a passion. I do not understand it at all; you do not defend me against Marius, Marius does not take my part against you, and I am all alone. I have a nice room prepared, and if I could have put my dear father in it, I would have done so; but my room is left on my hands and my lodger fails me. I order Nicolette to prepare a nice little dinner, and--they will not touch your dinner, Madame. And my father Fauchelevent wishes me to call him Monsieur Jean, and that I should receive him in a frightful old, ugly, mildewed cellar, in which the walls wear a beard, and empty bottles represent the looking-glasses, and spiders' webs the curtains. I allow that you are a singular man, it is your way; but a truce is accorded to newly-married folk, and you ought not to have begun to be singular again so soon. You are going to be very satisfied, then, in your Rue de l'Homme Armé; well, I was very wretched there. What have I done to offend you? You cause me great sorrow. Fie!" And suddenly growing serious, she looked intently at Jean Valjean and added,-- "You are angry with me for being happy; is that it?" Simplicity sometimes penetrates unconsciously very deep, and this question, simple for Cosette, was profound for Jean Valjean. Cosette wished to scratch, but she tore. Jean Valjean turned pale, he remained for a moment without answering, and then murmured with an indescribable accent, and speaking to himself,-- "Her happiness was the object of my life, and at present God may order my departure. Cosette, thou art happy, and my course is run." "Ah! you said _thou_ to me," Cosette exclaimed, and leaped on his neck. Jean Valjean wildly strained her to his heart, for he felt as if he were almost taking her back again. "Thank you, father," Cosette said to him. The excitement was getting too painful for Jean Valjean; he gently withdrew himself from Cosette's arms, and took up his hat. "Well?" said Cosette. Jean Valjean replied,-- "I am going to leave you, Madame, as you will be missed." And on the threshold he added,-- "I said _thou_ to you; tell your husband that it shall not happen again. Forgive me." Jean Valjean left Cosette stupefied by this enigmatical leave-taking. CHAPTER II. OTHER BACKWARD STEPS.