I want to see you smile and hear you say:
‘Ah, well, that’s good.’
Poor Mr. Marius! you know?
You promised me that you would give me anything I like—”
“Yes!
Only speak!”
She looked Marius full in the eye, and said:—
“I have the address.”
Marius turned pale.
All the blood flowed back to his heart.
“What address?”
“The address that you asked me to get!”
She added, as though with an effort:—
“The address—you know very well!”
“Yes!” stammered Marius.
“Of that young lady.”
This word uttered, she sighed deeply.
Marius sprang from the parapet on which he had been sitting and seized her hand distractedly.
“Oh! Well! lead me thither!
Tell me!
Ask of me anything you wish!
Where is it?”
“Come with me,” she responded.
“I don’t know the street or number very well; it is in quite the other direction from here, but I know the house well, I will take you to it.”
She withdrew her hand and went on, in a tone which could have rent the heart of an observer, but which did not even graze Marius in his intoxicated and ecstatic state:—
“Oh! how glad you are!”
A cloud swept across Marius’ brow.
He seized Eponine by the arm:—
“Swear one thing to me!”
“Swear!” said she, “what does that mean?
Come! You want me to swear?”
And she laughed.
“Your father! promise me, Eponine!
Swear to me that you will not give this address to your father!”
She turned to him with a stupefied air.
“Eponine!
How do you know that my name is Eponine?”
“Promise what I tell you!”
But she did not seem to hear him.
“That’s nice!
You have called me Eponine!”
Marius grasped both her arms at once.
“But answer me, in the name of Heaven! pay attention to what I am saying to you, swear to me that you will not tell your father this address that you know!”
“My father!” said she. “Ah yes, my father!
Be at ease.
He’s in close confinement.
Besides, what do I care for my father!”
“But you do not promise me!” exclaimed Marius.
“Let go of me!” she said, bursting into a laugh, “how you do shake me!
Yes!