A little while ago, when they came to tell us to come to you, I still thought that I was about to die, but it was from joy.
I was so sad!
I have not taken the time to dress myself, I must frighten people with my looks! What will your relatives say to see me in a crumpled collar? Do speak!
You let me do all the talking.
We are still in the Rue de l''Homme Arme.
It seems that your shoulder was terrible. They told me that you could put your fist in it.
And then, it seems that they cut your flesh with the scissors.
That is frightful. I have cried till I have no eyes left.
It is queer that a person can suffer like that.
Your grandfather has a very kindly air. Don''t disturb yourself, don''t rise on your elbow, you will injure yourself.
Oh! how happy I am!
So our unhappiness is over! I am quite foolish.
I had things to say to you, and I no longer know in the least what they were.
Do you still love me?
We live in the Rue de l''Homme Arme.
There is no garden.
I made lint all the time; stay, sir, look, it is your fault, I have a callous on my fingers."
"Angel!" said Marius.
Angel is the only word in the language which cannot be worn out. No other word could resist the merciless use which lovers make of it.┆思┆兔┆網┆文┆檔┆共┆享┆與┆在┆線┆閱┆讀┆
Then as there were spectators, they paused and said not a word more, contenting themselves with softly touching each other''s hands.