The Palais Royal, which Musichetta took me to visit with Claudine on the Tuesday after Christmas as arranged, was huge, crowded, and noisy. It was in the shape of a parallelogram, surrounding an open court of about six or eight acres, planted with trees, and with a fountain in the middle. Even across this, there were small buildings containing shops. Around the edge were covered walkways or arcades, full of shops and restaurants and teeming with people of all classes shopping for étrennes - New Year's present's - just like us. At each end, Claudine pointed out, were places that sold ices and lemonade in the summer, and hired out chairs and newspapers.
Coffee houses, some painted, others with walls full of looking glasses, were full of people talking, playing chess and dominoes, and reading papers, and there were gambling shops too, and tailors, and silversmiths, and watchmakers, and booksellers, and even opticians shops selling everything from spectacles to opera glasses to telescopes. Puppet shows, quack-doctors, and newsmen all served to make the place even louder and more crowded. Groups of women, often well dressed and beautiful, attracted the attentions of plenty of men, but despite their smiles, there was an emptiness and a hurt behind their eyes. I'd make a start on the new pamphlet in the New Year, I couldn't help thinking to myself, and come back here to talk to some of them.
As we walked (and sometimes pushed our way) through the arcades, I couldn't help but pick up on snatches of conversation - an actress furious at the editor of a journal who had drafted an article against her intended performance in a new play without even having seen it - gossip about a celebrated dualist who was buying sugar plums, having wounded a man yesterday and killed another the day before - a man buying roses and violets for his former mistress purely out of habit rather than for any affection - the daughter of the speaker's washerwoman being gossiped about on account of wanting to take the solo part of Nina when she was only a chorus dancer...
It seemed that all three of us were utter magpies, as none of us could resist looking in at the windows of the jewellers shops to gaze at the diamond rings, pearl lockets, hair pins, and necklaces with jewels in almost every colour and configuration imaginable. Nothing was remotely affordable for any of us, but, as Claudine said, it was nice to dream. Much of what the milliners had to offer in their windows was also wildly out of our price range, since they had much of their best stock on display, and the confectioners had displays just as mouth-watering, with bonbons and ornamented cakes galore.
In one of the shops, we couldn't help but giggle at a clock in the form of a woman, wearing somewhat scanty drapery which moved to show the hour. In the pawn shop next door, Musichetta bought one of the cheaper snuff boxes for Bossuet, not being able to afford any of the more expensive ones, but it was still beautifully inlaid. I, meanwhile, found a small set of dominoes that seemed perfect for Grantaire. There was also a pretty needle case, formed or a reel with three sections for three colours of thread, the centre of which was hollow for the needles to go in. The whole was enclosed by the lid, which served to keep the needles in and protect the thread, and I managed to buy without Musichetta noticing. Claudine found a prettily carved bone comb that she thought her sister would adore.
From the sounds of it, much of what was in the pawn shop was courtesy of the gamblers nearby, many of whom would, when they no longer had the gold or silver to facilitate their play, would pawn whatever they had on them, from their snuffbox to their coat, in order to try and win back all that they had lost. Looking in to the gambling shops, most of the games seemed to be entirely reliant on chance, with many of the odds being entirely fifty-fifty - rouge et noir, roulette, and par et impar.
"Not considering gambling, are you?" Claudine asked.
"Lis? Gamble? Hardly!" Musichetta laughed.
"She's right - I'm not considering it at all. Just wondering why people bother. So many of those games have equal odds as to whether you win or lose, and there's no skill involved at all. Horse racing I can understand, but this?"
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Lisette
Fanfiction"Don't put your trust in revolutions. They always come round again. That's why they're called revolutions. People die, and nothing changes." - Terry Pratchett, Night Watch A retelling of part of Les Miserables, from about 1828-1832. Élise was born i...
