Shethat was Marius' whole thought。
He meditated of nothing else； he was confusedly conscious that his old coat was being an impossible coat； and that his new coat was growing old； that his shirts were wearing out； that his hat was wearing out； that his boots were giving out； and he said to himself：
〃If I could but see her once again before I die！〃
One sweet idea alone was left to him； that she had loved him； that her glance had told him so； that she did not know his name； but that she did know his soul； and that； wherever she was； however mysterious the place； she still loved him perhaps。 Who knows whether she were not thinking of him as he was thinking of her？
Sometimes； in those inexplicable hours such as are experienced by every heart that loves； though he had no reasons for anything but sadness and yet felt an obscure quiver of joy； he said to himself： 〃It is her thoughts that are ing to me！〃
Then he added： 〃Perhaps my thoughts reach her also。〃
This illusion； at which he shook his head a moment later； was sufficient； nevertheless； to throw beams； which at times resembled hope； into his soul。
From time to time； especially at that evening hour which is the most depressing to even the dreamy； he allowed the purest； the most impersonal； the most ideal of the reveries which filled his brain； to fall upon a notebook which contained nothing else。
He called this 〃writing to her。〃
It must not be supposed that his reason was deranged。 Quite the contrary。
He had lost the faculty of working and of moving firmly towards any fixed goal； but he was endowed with more clear…sightedness and rectitude than ever。
Marius surveyed by a calm and real； although peculiar light； what passed before his eyes； even the most indifferent deeds and men； he pronounced a just criticism on everything with a sort of honest dejection and candid disinterestedness。
His judgment； which was almost wholly disassociated from hope； held itself aloof and soared on high。
In this state of mind nothing escaped him； nothing deceived him； and every moment he was discovering the foundation of life； of humanity； and of destiny。
Happy； even in the midst of anguish； is he to whom God has given a soul worthy of love and of unhappiness！ He who has not viewed the things of this world and the heart of man under this double light has seen nothing and knows nothing of the true。
The soul which loves and suffers is in a state of sublimity。
However； day followed day； and nothing new presented itself。 It merely seemed to him； that the sombre space which still remained to be traversed by him was growing shorter with every instant。 He thought that he already distinctly perceived the brink of the bottomless abyss。
〃What！〃 he repeated to himself； 〃shall I not see her again before then！〃
When you have ascended the Rue Saint…Jacques； left the barrier on one side and followed the old inner boulevard for some distance； you reach the Rue de la Sante； then the Glaciere； and； a little while before arriving at the little river of the Gobelins； you e to a sort of field which is the only spot in the long and monotonous chain of the boulevards of Paris； where Ruysdeel would be tempted to sit down。
There is something indescribable there which exhales grace； a green meadow traversed by tightly stretched lines； from which flutter rags drying in the wind； and an old market…gardener's house； built in the time of Louis XIII。； with its great roof oddly pierced with dormer windows； dilapidated palisades； a little water amid poplar…trees； women； voices； laughter； on the horizon the Pantheon； the pole of the Deaf…Mutes； the Val…de…Grace； black； squat； fantastic； amusing； magnificent； and in the background； the severe square crests of the towers of Notre Dame。
As the place is worth looking at； no one goes thither。
Hardly one cart or wagoner passes in a quarter of an hour。
It chanced that Marius' solitary strolls led him to this plot of ground； near the water。
That day； there was a rarity on the boulevard； a passer…by。 Marius； vaguely impressed with the almost savage beauty of the place； asked this passer…by：〃What is the name of this spot？〃
The person replied：
〃It is the Lark's meadow。〃
And he added：
〃It was here that Ulbach killed the shepherdess of Ivry。〃
But after the word 〃Lark〃 Marius heard nothing more。
These sudden congealments in the state of revery； which a single word suffices to evoke； do occur。
The entire thought is abruptly condensed around an idea； and it is no longer capable of perceiving anything else。
The Lark was the appellation which had replaced Ursule in the depths of Marius' melancholy。〃Stop；〃 said he with a sort of unreasoning stupor peculiar to these mysterious asides； 〃this is her meadow。 I shall know where she lives now。〃
It was absurd； but irresistible。
And every day he returned to that meadow of the Lark。
THE LARK'S MEADOW
Marius had witnessed the unexpected termination of the ambush upon whose track he had set Javert； but Javert had no sooner quitted the building； bearing off his prisoners in three hackney…coaches； than Marius also glided out of the house。
It was only nine o'clock in the evening。
Marius betook himself to Courfeyrac。 Courfeyrac was no longer the imperturbable inhabitant of the Latin Quarter； he had gone to live in the Rue de la Verrerie 〃for political reasons〃； this quarter was one where； at that epoch； insurrection liked to install itself。
Marius said to Courfeyrac： 〃I have e to sleep with you。〃
Courfeyrac dragged a mattress off his bed； which was furnished with two； spread it out on the floor； and said：
〃There。〃
At seven o'clock on the following morning； Marius returned to the hovel； paid the quarter's rent which he owed to Ma'am Bougon； had his books； his bed； his table； his mode； and his two chairs loaded on a hand…cart and went off without leaving his address； so that when Javert returned in the course of the morning； for the purpose of questioning Marius as to the events of the preceding evening； he found only Ma'am Bougon； who answered： 〃Moved away！〃
Ma'am Bougon was convinced that Marius was to some extent an acplice of the robbers who had been seized the night before。 〃Who would ever have said it？〃 she exclaimed to the portresses of the quarter； 〃a young man like that； who had the air of a girl！〃
Marius had two reasons for this prompt change of residence。 The first was； that he now had a horror of that house； where he had beheld； so close at hand； and in its most repulsive and most ferocious development； a social deformity which is； perhaps； even more terrible than the wicked rich man； the wicked poor man。 The second was； that he did not wish to figure in the lawsuit which would insue in all probability； and be brought in to testify against Thenardier。
Javert thought that the young man； whose name he had forgotten； was afraid； and had fled； or perhaps； had not even returned home at the time of the ambush； he made some efforts to find him； however； but without success。
A month passed； then another。
Marius was still with Courfeyrac。 H