There was none. We lost the inn and moved to Paris, and you have seen what has become of me since! The laughing stock of the street, finding our home in the gutters. So often we did not even have a home to call our own. Our apartment where I met m'sieur Marius... It was a gift we had it even that long. We spent our winters under bridges huddling together for warmth, sure we would not see tomorrow.

[Her entire life, there had been no promise of a tomorrow.]

Lucky! Oh, she is! The tables have turned, and I am in her place and she is in mine! But the slope has been increased and I am dead and alone and she lives with my Marius and her father whom loves her!