Is this the right thing to be done? Jean Valjean was in his study working.
But though he had a book in front of him, he was neither reading nor
writing. He was thinking. He was contemplating upon his actions toward his
beloved daughter, Cosette.
Perhaps I was a bit harsh on her, he debated with himself. After all, she is only a child! She doesn't know any better.but I must also teach her discipline. My authority cannot be questioned! Especially under the circumstances.if the police find me, who knows what could happen to my dear Cosette?
Thoughts such as these entered and left the man's mind, lasting hours and hours. After a while, he realized he had missed supper, and he had not seen Cosette since breakfast.
He left the study and went to find her, going first into the kitchen and then into the front hall.
"Cosette!" He called. "Cosette!!" There was no answer.
He went to her room; it was empty. He searched the entire house; then opened the front door.
He did not dare to call for her out in such vulnerable places. What if someone recognized his voice? He could not risk anything.
Rain began to fall. As the minutes past, the rainfall became stronger and fiercer. Valjean could barely see the street in front of him after a while; he could not go search for his daughter, or anyone, for that matter, in such weather.
"Cosette?" he said longingly. "Oh, where are you?"
Perhaps I was a bit harsh on her, he debated with himself. After all, she is only a child! She doesn't know any better.but I must also teach her discipline. My authority cannot be questioned! Especially under the circumstances.if the police find me, who knows what could happen to my dear Cosette?
Thoughts such as these entered and left the man's mind, lasting hours and hours. After a while, he realized he had missed supper, and he had not seen Cosette since breakfast.
He left the study and went to find her, going first into the kitchen and then into the front hall.
"Cosette!" He called. "Cosette!!" There was no answer.
He went to her room; it was empty. He searched the entire house; then opened the front door.
He did not dare to call for her out in such vulnerable places. What if someone recognized his voice? He could not risk anything.
Rain began to fall. As the minutes past, the rainfall became stronger and fiercer. Valjean could barely see the street in front of him after a while; he could not go search for his daughter, or anyone, for that matter, in such weather.
"Cosette?" he said longingly. "Oh, where are you?"