They soon arrived at a small brick house, tucked between two store-fronts.
Javert stepped forward and soundly knocked on the door. Bolts moved aside
and the door opened slightly. "Wh- who's there?" a man's voice inquired
from within.
"Inspector Javert, Claude. Do you not recognize me?"
"Inspector!" Claude exclaimed. "You must come in from the cold!"
The door was thrown wide open to reveal the man standing behind it. At 62, Claude was short and balding, but as energetic as a child. He flitted all over the hallway as the inspector and the child entered.
"It has been so long!" he chirped, "very long indeed! Ah, but here you are, so it no longer matters. Do sit down, I'll return straightaway." With that the little man dashed out and headed up the stairs. "Mathilde, Mathilde! We have a visitor!" his voice was heard as he scrambled up the stairs.
Javert removed his hat and coat and sat close to the fire, hoping to warm himself up enough to return back outside. Phillippe remained by the door, looking longingly and the fireplace. "Well, come on, you must be cold." Javert turned to the little boy.
"Are you sure it's alright?" he ventured.
"Would I invite you if it wasn't?"
Satisfied with the inspector's answer, Phillippe hurried toward the fire. "Why am I here?" he asked timidly.
"Aren't you inquisitive" Javert commented. "We are here because it is insanely cold outside and you need a place to stay for the night."
"But I got no money, m'sieur. How am I to sleep here?"
Javert smiled. "They'll shelter you all the same. Not everyone in Paris has a leaden heart." Surprised by the inspector's warm feelings toward the Claude and his wife, Phillippe remained quiet. They soon heard Claude hurrying back down the stairs, chattering all the while. He entered, followed by a matronly woman; Mathilde. Her large eyes widened as she saw the Inspector.
"I told you he'd come back, Mathilde. I told you and told you, day after day, and look! I was right!" Claude babbled on.
"You did come back!" Mathilde opened her arms and ran to embrace the Inspector. Javert returned the embrace, blushing slightly. "But you should have come sooner: I have been so worried about you. I only get letters once a month. What am I to do the rest of the time? You could have been hurt or ill. Have you been? Are you hurt? Ill? Tell me."
"Mathilde, I have been fine." Javert assured the woman. Seeing her eyes flicker uncertainly he added, "I'll write more often as well."
The round woman beamed. "Now, to business." She said. "Certainly you didn't come to just say hello."
Phillippe peered out from behind Javert, where he had dashed when the couple came into the room. "Who is this?" Mathilde gushed, smiling at the frightened little boy.
"Phillippe" Javert answered.
"Phillippe, eh?" Mathilde eyed Javert. "Well Phillippe, what can I do for you?"
"He needs a place to..." Javert was interrupted by Mathilde.
"Now, now. Let the boy speak for himself, Inspector" Mathilde beckoned the little child forward. Trembling, he approached her.
"Well, Madame, I am cold... er. it is cold. and, you see. I.well."
"Come on, out with it" the woman encouraged.
Phillippe took a deep breath. "CanIstaywithyoutonight'causeit'scoldoutandIgotnowheretostay?" He looked up longingly at her.
"Of course you may", Claude spoke up. "Only.."
"Only you had best wash up If you want any supper" Mathilde threatened, ruining the effect by smiling. The little boy scurried off to clean up.
"My, doesn't this seem familiar?" Mathilde asked, eying Javert once more. The inspector blushed once more, casting his eyes down, towards his boots.
"Inspector Javert, Claude. Do you not recognize me?"
"Inspector!" Claude exclaimed. "You must come in from the cold!"
The door was thrown wide open to reveal the man standing behind it. At 62, Claude was short and balding, but as energetic as a child. He flitted all over the hallway as the inspector and the child entered.
"It has been so long!" he chirped, "very long indeed! Ah, but here you are, so it no longer matters. Do sit down, I'll return straightaway." With that the little man dashed out and headed up the stairs. "Mathilde, Mathilde! We have a visitor!" his voice was heard as he scrambled up the stairs.
Javert removed his hat and coat and sat close to the fire, hoping to warm himself up enough to return back outside. Phillippe remained by the door, looking longingly and the fireplace. "Well, come on, you must be cold." Javert turned to the little boy.
"Are you sure it's alright?" he ventured.
"Would I invite you if it wasn't?"
Satisfied with the inspector's answer, Phillippe hurried toward the fire. "Why am I here?" he asked timidly.
"Aren't you inquisitive" Javert commented. "We are here because it is insanely cold outside and you need a place to stay for the night."
"But I got no money, m'sieur. How am I to sleep here?"
Javert smiled. "They'll shelter you all the same. Not everyone in Paris has a leaden heart." Surprised by the inspector's warm feelings toward the Claude and his wife, Phillippe remained quiet. They soon heard Claude hurrying back down the stairs, chattering all the while. He entered, followed by a matronly woman; Mathilde. Her large eyes widened as she saw the Inspector.
"I told you he'd come back, Mathilde. I told you and told you, day after day, and look! I was right!" Claude babbled on.
"You did come back!" Mathilde opened her arms and ran to embrace the Inspector. Javert returned the embrace, blushing slightly. "But you should have come sooner: I have been so worried about you. I only get letters once a month. What am I to do the rest of the time? You could have been hurt or ill. Have you been? Are you hurt? Ill? Tell me."
"Mathilde, I have been fine." Javert assured the woman. Seeing her eyes flicker uncertainly he added, "I'll write more often as well."
The round woman beamed. "Now, to business." She said. "Certainly you didn't come to just say hello."
Phillippe peered out from behind Javert, where he had dashed when the couple came into the room. "Who is this?" Mathilde gushed, smiling at the frightened little boy.
"Phillippe" Javert answered.
"Phillippe, eh?" Mathilde eyed Javert. "Well Phillippe, what can I do for you?"
"He needs a place to..." Javert was interrupted by Mathilde.
"Now, now. Let the boy speak for himself, Inspector" Mathilde beckoned the little child forward. Trembling, he approached her.
"Well, Madame, I am cold... er. it is cold. and, you see. I.well."
"Come on, out with it" the woman encouraged.
Phillippe took a deep breath. "CanIstaywithyoutonight'causeit'scoldoutandIgotnowheretostay?" He looked up longingly at her.
"Of course you may", Claude spoke up. "Only.."
"Only you had best wash up If you want any supper" Mathilde threatened, ruining the effect by smiling. The little boy scurried off to clean up.
"My, doesn't this seem familiar?" Mathilde asked, eying Javert once more. The inspector blushed once more, casting his eyes down, towards his boots.