[CHAPTER I.]
M. MADELEINE LOOKS AT HIS HAIR.
Day was beginning to dawn. Fantine had passed a sleepless and feverish night, though full of bright visions, and towards morning fell asleep. Sister Simplice, who was watching, took advantage of this slumber to go and prepare a fresh dose of bark. The worthy sister had been for some time in the surgery, stooping over her drugs and bottles, and looking carefully at them on account of the mist which dawn spreads over objects. All at once she turned her head and gave a slight shriek. M. Madeleine had entered silently, and was standing before her.
"Is it you, sir?" she exclaimed.
He answered in a low voice,—
"How is the poor creature?"
"Not so bad just at present, but she has frightened us terribly."
She explained to him what had occurred, how Fantine had been very ill the previous day, but was now better, because she believed that he had gone to Montfermeil to fetch her child. The sister did not dare question him, but she could see from his looks that he had not been there.
"All that is well," he said. "You did right in not undeceiving her."