This is not true at all. She is no longer mine; she is yours. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time. ‘I find you excessively rude, both of you,’ said the lady crossly.
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