his butterfly?

One day he remained still longer than usual. On the following day he
observed that there was no fire on the hearth.--"Hello!" he thought. "No
fire."--And he furnished the explanation for himself.--"It is perfectly
simple. It is April. The cold weather has ceased."

"Heavens! how cold it is here!" exclaimed Cosette when she entered.

"Why, no," said Jean Valjean.

"Was it you who told Basque not to make a fire then?"

"Yes, since we are now in the month of May."

"But we have a fire until June. One is needed all the year in this
cellar."

"I thought that a fire was unnecessary."

"That is exactly like one of your ideas!" retorted Cosette.

On the following day there was a fire. But the two arm-chairs were
arranged at the other end of the room near the door. "--What is the
meaning of this?" thought Jean Valjean.

He went for the arm-chairs and restored them to their ordinary place
near the hearth.

This fire lighted once more encouraged him, however. He prolonged the
conversation even beyond its customary limits. As he rose to take his
leave, Cosette said to him:

"My husband said a queer thing to me yesterday."

"What was it?"

"He said to me: 'Cosette, we have an income of thirty thousand livres.
Twenty-seven that you own, and three that my grandfather gives me.' I
replied: 'That makes thirty.' He went on: 'Would you have the courage to
live on the three thousand?' I answered: 'Yes, on nothing. Provided
that it was with you.' And then I asked: 'Why do you say that to me?' He
replied: 'I wanted to know.'"

Jean Valjean found not a word to answer. Cosette probably expected some
explanation from him; he listened in gloomy silence. He went back to the
Rue de l'Homme Arme; he was so deeply absorbed that he mistook the
door and instead of entering his own house, he entered the adjoining
dwelling. It was only after having ascended nearly two stories that he
perceived his error and went down again.

His mind was swarming with conjectures. It was evident that Marius had
his doubts as to the origin of the six hundred thousand francs, that
he feared some source that was not pure, who knows? that he had even,
perhaps, discovered that the money came from him, Jean Valjean, that he
hesitated before this suspicious fortune, and was disinclined to take
it as his own,--preferring that both he and Cosette should remain poor,
rather than that they should be rich with wealth that was not clean.

Moreo