"You must not imagine that it is a love-letter, though it is for a woman; it is for the people; we are fighting, and we respect the sex; we are not like people in the world of fashion, where there are lions that send poulets to camels."
"Give it to me."
"After all," Gavroche continued, "you look like an honest man."
"Make haste."
"Here it is."
And he handed the paper to Jean Valjean.
"And make haste, Monsieur Chose, since Mamselle Chosette is waiting."
Gavroche felt pleased at having made this pun. Jean Valjean added,—
"Must the answer be taken to St. Merry?"
"You would make in that way," Gavroche exclaimed, "one of those pastries vulgarly called brioches [blunders]. That letter comes from the barricade in the Rue de la Chanvrerie, and I am going back to it. Good-night, citizen."