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Jean Valjean's eyes became terrible. It is no longer the eyes, but a deep vitreous body, as if indifferent to reality, and reflects the light of fear in the face of disaster, a kind of eyes that people often have in distress. What he saw was no longer the substance of things, but an illusion. He tried to get up, to get away, to run away, but he couldn't move a step. Sometimes what we see holds us back and drags us along. He seemed to be nailed and turned to stone, and he stood there in an indescribable confusion and pain, wondering what this inhuman persecution was for, and how his heart could be so disordered. He suddenly raised his hand to his forehead, and suddenly remembered that this place was the only way to go, that it was customary to take this detour so as not to disturb the king on the Fontainebleau road, and that it was through this gate that he had passed thirty-five years ago. Cosette, though she felt differently, was just as frightened. She did not know what it was, she could not breathe, she felt that what she saw was impossible, and she finally asked aloud: "Father!"! What's in these cars? Jean Valjean replied: "A convict." "Where are they going?" "Go to the big radial boat." At this moment, the hundred or so sticks were beating vigorously, and the back of the knife was also cutting. It was really a storm of whipping and beating. The criminals all bowed their heads. There was ugly obedience under the heavy punishment. All the people were quiet together,stainless steel hydraulic fitting, looking at people like tied wolves. Cosette was trembling, and she asked again: "Father, are these still human beings?" "Sometimes." Said the sad man. It was a party of prisoners who had set out from Bisset before daybreak; the king was then at Fontainebleau, and they wanted to make a detour, so they took the Le Mans road instead. This diversion lengthened the terrible journey by three or four days, but it was nothing to walk a few more days in order not to let the king above all see the horror of the torture. Jean Valjean returned home dejected. This kind of encounter is a blow, and the impression left behind is almost shocking. Jean Valjean walked home with Cosette, not noticing that she was asking any more questions about what had just happened. Perhaps he was too distressed to hear what she said or to answer her when he was unable to extricate himself. But in the evening, when Cosette had left him to sleep,ball valve manufacturer, he heard her say in a low voice, as if to herself: "I feel that if I should ever meet one like that in my life, my God, if I should only go near to see it, I would die!" Fortunately, on the second day of that tragic encounter, I can't remember what the national festival was now. There were celebrations in Paris, a military parade in the Champ-de-Mars, a contest on the Seine, a performance by the Elysee, fireworks in the Star Square, and lanterns everywhere. Jean Valjean, of one mind, broke from his habit of leading Cosette to the scene of the day, so as to dilute the memory of the previous day, brass tube fitting ,14 tube fitting, and so that the ugly scene she had encountered would disappear in the midst of the mirth of Paris. The parade that adorned the festival naturally led to the passage of military uniforms through the streets, and Jean Valjean put on his National Guard uniform, concealing the feeling of a refugee. In short, the purpose of this tour seems to have been achieved. Cosette, who had always made it a rule to assist her father's pleasure, and to whom any scene was new, accepted this distraction with the easy ease of youth, and without too much disdain for the dull gaiety of what is called public celebration. Jean Valjean, therefore, thought that the play had been a success, and that the ugly illusion no longer existed. A few days later, one fine morning, they were both on the steps of the garden, which was a further exception to Jean Valjean's rule of life, and to Cosette's habit of staying in her chamber because of boredom. Cosette was standing on the steps, in the bathing-robe which she rose in, that simple dress which envelops young girls in the same way that the morning glow envelops the sun. Her face, flushed from a good night's sleep, was facing the sun, and the old man was gazing at her gently and lovingly. She was holding a Daisy in her hand, and she was picking its petals one by one.
Cosette did not know the lovely formula, "I love you, a little, madly," and so on; who would have taught her that? She played with the flower instinctively and innocently, not realizing that to pick the petals of a Daisy was to reveal a person's heart. If there were a fourth beauty goddess, called the Sorrow Fairy and smiling, she would be something like this fairy. Jean Valjean gazed at the little fingers on the flower, dazzled by the sight, and forgot everything in the child's light. A Robin was crooning in the nearby bushes. White clouds floated lightly and swiftly across the sky, as if they had just been released from somewhere. Cosette, still intent on plucking her petals, seemed to be thinking of something, which must have been a curious thing, when all at once, with the graceful ease of a swan, she turned from her shoulder and said to Jean Valjean: Father, what is a galley-boat? ＷＷw.xiＡosＨuotxt.ＣＯＭ The assistance below in the fourth volume may be the assistance above-external injury, internal healing. Their lives were thus darkened day by day. They were left with only one pastime, which was the pleasure of the old days: giving bread to the hungry and clothes to the cold. Cosette often accompanied Jean Valjean on his visits to the needy, and in these activities they were able to find some common ground that they had inherited from the past. Sometimes, when the day's activities were going well, when many poor people had been helped, when many children had been fed and warmed, Cosette was more cheerful when the lamp was lit. It was during these days that they visited Jondrette's ruined house. On the very next morning of his visit, Jean Valjean entered the house, as calm as ever, except for a large wound on his left arm, rather swollen and vicious, like a burning wound,38 tube fitting, which he explained casually. The injury caused him to have a high fever for more than a month and he did not go out. He won't call any doctor. When Cosette insisted on having one, he said, "Find a doctor for dogs." 。 chinaroke.com