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nt to bed at ten o'clock, Marius did not come to the garden on such occasions until after that hour, when, from the street, he heard Cosette open the long glass door on the veranda. Of course, no one ever met Marius in the daytime. Jean Valjean never even dreamed any longer that Marius was in existence. Only once,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], one morning, he chanced to say to Cosette: "Why, you have whitewash on your back!" On the previous evening, Marius, in a transport, had pushed Cosette against the wall. Old Toussaint,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], who retired early, thought of nothing but her sleep, and was as ignorant of the whole matter as Jean Valjean.Marius never set foot in the house. When he was with Cosette,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],they hid themselves in a recess near the steps,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], in order that they might neither be seen nor heard from the street, and there they sat, frequently contenting themselves, by way of conversation, with pressing each other's hands twenty times a minute as they gazed at the branches of the trees. At such times, a thunderbolt might have fallen thirty paces from them, and they would not have noticed it, so deeply was the revery of the one absorbed and sunk in the revery of the other.Limpid purity. Hours wholly white; almost all alike.This sort of love is a recollection of lily petals and the plumage of the dove. The whole extent of the garden lay between them and the street. Every time that Marius entered and left, he carefully adjusted the bar of the gate in such a manner that no displacement was visible.He usually went away
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