my lad, do as
you like, attach your paving-stone, marry your Pousselevent, your
Coupelevent--Never, sir, never!"

"Father--"

"Never!"

At the tone in which that "never" was uttered, Marius lost all hope. He
traversed the chamber with slow steps, with bowed head, tottering and
more like a dying man than like one merely taking his departure. M.
Gillenormand followed him with his eyes, and at the moment when the
door opened, and Marius was on the point of going out, he advanced four
paces, with the senile vivacity of impetuous and spoiled old gentlemen,
seized Marius by the collar, brought him back energetically into the
room, flung him into an armchair and said to him:--

"Tell me all about it!"

"It was that single word "father" which had effected this revolution.

Marius stared at him in bewilderment. M. Gillenormand's mobile face was
no longer expressive of anything but rough and ineffable good-nature.
The grandsire had given way before the grandfather.

"Come, see here, speak, tell me about your love affairs, jabber, tell me
everything! Sapristi! how stupid young folks are!"

"Father--" repeated Marius.

The old man's entire countenance lighted up with indescribable radiance.

"Yes, that's right, call me father, and you'll see!"

There was now something so kind, so gentle, so openhearted, and so
paternal in this brusqueness, that Marius, in the sudden transition from
discouragement to hope, was stunned and intoxicated by it, as it were.
He was seated near the table, the light from the candles brought out
the dilapidation of his costume, which Father Gillenormand regarded with
amazement.

"Well, father--" said Marius.

"Ah, by the way," interrupted M. Gillenormand, "you really have not a
penny then? You are dressed like a pickpocket."

He rummaged in a drawer, drew forth a purse, which he laid on the table:
"Here are a hundred louis, buy yourself a hat."

"Father," pursued Marius, "my good father, if you only knew! I love her.
You cannot imagine it; the first time I saw her was at the Luxembourg,
she came there; in the beginning, I did not pay much heed to her, and
then, I don't know how it came about, I fell in love with her. Oh! how
unhappy that made me! Now, at last, I see her every day, at her own
home, her father does not know it, just fancy, they are going away, it
is in the garden that we meet, in the evening, her father means to take
her to England, then I said to myself: 'I'll go and see my