Fantine nods. It makes sense. Of course a man of M. Madeleine's intelligence could disappear in Paris, especially if they spent some years in a convent. Javert could never touch them there.

No more can he touch her here. She has to remind herself of that, but she still goes pale. "I know, I've been told," she says. "Another man from Paris, a M. Bahorel--do you know him? He told me. But Javert can't hurt me here, he can't!" She says it defiantly, though it's a declaration to herself as much as to M. Madeleine.