“No,” said Dahlia; “it was one of Tholomyès’ ideas. That is evident.”

“In that case,” retorted Favorite, “death to Blachevelle, and long live Tholomyès!”

“Long live Tholomyès!” exclaimed Dahlia and Zéphine.

And they burst out laughing.

Fantine laughed with the rest.

An hour later, when she had returned to her room, she wept. It was her first love affair, as we have said; she had given herself to this Tholomyès as to a husband, and the poor girl had a child.