Marius gazed intently at him:
“I know your extraordinary secret, just as I knew Jean Valjean’s name, just as I know your name.”
“My name?”
“Yes.”
“That is not difficult, Monsieur le Baron. I had the honor to write to you and to tell it to you. Thénard.”
“—Dier.”
“Hey?”
“Thénardier.”
“Who’s that?”
In danger the porcupine bristles up, the beetle feigns death, the old guard forms in a square; this man burst into laughter.