During his long silent companionship with aunt Dide, he recalled one by one his remembrances of the morning, revelling in their most trifling details.
From that time forward, the fulness of his heart cloistered him yet more in the lonely existence which he had adopted with his grandmother.

He was naturally fond of hidden spots, of solitary retirement, where he could give himself up to his thoughts.

At this period already he had eagerly begun to read all the old odd volumes which he could pick up at brokers' shops in the Faubourg, and which were destined to lead him to a strange and generous social religion and morality.

His reading--ill-digested and lacking all solid foundation--gave him glimpses of the world's vanities and pleasures, especially with regard to women, which would have seriously troubled his mind if his heart had not been contented.

When Miette came, he received her at first as a companion, then as the joy and ambition of his life.