Ah, no, I have it wrong. “She cannot be aware,” he continued, “that she is making herself conspicuous. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. A bad sign; it signified that the heart action was in a precarious state. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud.
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