"Mmm, no. I think I gave him back a copy of Hugo's Notre Dame that I inadvertently owed him." Accidental book theft. And a pang of selfish irritation, because that adventure was fun, damn it all, and now he has to lump it with other thoughts about Hannibal Lecter. "He neglected to mention any other Hugo novels. Though there's been time since then to read, of course."
He takes up the book again. Had the conversation with Pontmercy gone just so? He rather thinks it had, to the word. Not that he remembers it so very precisely, but some of the better phrases come back to him. That was a clever thing he'd said there, about Blondeau.
The next chapter seems to confirm Pontmercy's hand in the story, though it's not an explanation that meets all questions. Then comes the next chapter: the back-room of the Musain. He skims through Grantaire's speech without much guilt at his inattention, then pauses with a frown when he reaches his own interruption. He remembers that. And that, and that, and that.
Finally he puts down the book. "Si César m'avait donné la gloire et la guerre..." He can't make a tune happen. "Who have you spoken to about this?"
no subject
He takes up the book again. Had the conversation with Pontmercy gone just so? He rather thinks it had, to the word. Not that he remembers it so very precisely, but some of the better phrases come back to him. That was a clever thing he'd said there, about Blondeau.
The next chapter seems to confirm Pontmercy's hand in the story, though it's not an explanation that meets all questions. Then comes the next chapter: the back-room of the Musain. He skims through Grantaire's speech without much guilt at his inattention, then pauses with a frown when he reaches his own interruption. He remembers that. And that, and that, and that.
Finally he puts down the book. "Si César m'avait donné la gloire et la guerre..." He can't make a tune happen. "Who have you spoken to about this?"