[There is something to be said for the stranger's good cheer, which is not quite so bright so as to be jarring in this gloom and thus is not unwelcome. Jean Valjean allows himself to be ushered along the corridor of sleep-painted faces, carefully marking in his memory the precise position of Cosette's resting place.]
She is called Cosette. And I, Fauchelevent.
[He hides his hesitation well in giving this name. Although it is but an alias, it is still a thread that connects to him, to whom secrecy is dear.]
no subject
She is called Cosette. And I, Fauchelevent.
[He hides his hesitation well in giving this name. Although it is but an alias, it is still a thread that connects to him, to whom secrecy is dear.]