Page 1694 - les-miserables

strange theme, the flesh, before which that immense and in-
nocent love recoiled with a sort of sacred fright.
Marius pictured life with Cosette to himself like this,
without anything else; to come every evening to the Rue
Plumet, to displace the old and accommodating bar of the
chief-justice’s gate, to sit elbow to elbow on that bench, to
gaze through the trees at the scintillation of the on-coming
night, to fit a fold of the knee of his trousers into the ample
fall of Cosette’s gown, to caress her thumb-nail, to call her
thou, to smell of the same flower, one after the other, forev-
er, indefinitely. During this time, clouds passed above their
heads. Every time that the wind blows it bears with it more
of the dreams of men than of the clouds of heaven.
This chaste, almost shy love was not devoid of gallantry,
by any means. To pay compliments to the woman whom a
man loves is the first method of bestowing caresses, and he
is half audacious who tries it. A compliment is something
like a kiss through a veil. Voluptuousness mingles there
with its sweet tiny point, while it hides itself. The heart
draws back before voluptuousness only to love the more.
Marius’ blandishments, all saturated with fancy, were, so
to speak, of azure hue. The birds when they fly up yonder,
in the direction of the angels, must hear such words. There
were mingled with them, nevertheless, life, humanity, all
the positiveness of which Marius was capable. It was what
is said in the bower, a prelude to what will be said in the
chamber; a lyrical effusion, strophe and sonnet intermin-
gled, pleasing hyperboles of cooing, all the refinements of
adoration arranged in a bouquet and exhaling a celestial

1694 Les Miserables