The bell tolled three o' clock and Marius started roused from his dream. He quickly turned to face his wife, her face smooth in he untroubled state of sleep. Cosette.
Sleepily, he pandered her as she slept peacefully Cosette, His wife. In sleep, she conveyed the same innocence that she did in life. Her heart and mind were full of ideas of purity. Books, her love for Marius and her loving respect her father. In many ways she was still a child. What did she know of pain, of suffering, of barricades?
His treacherous mind returned his thoughts to his dream. His dream of a woman so unlike Cosette's gentle purity in every way. A woman whose strength ad courage he had never realized, whose fiery eyes he had never seen until death had extinguished them.
Sleep claimed him once more. His arms around his wife, he returned to his dream.
"Eponine," he mumered, so softly it may have been the wind.
Next to him, Cosette tried to convince herself it was.