Madame Victurnien sometimes saw her passing，from her window，noticed the distress of'that creature'who，'thanks to her，'had been'put back in her proper place，'and congratulated herself.The happiness of the evil-minded is black.
Excess of toil wore out Fantine，and the little dry cough which troubled her increased.
She sometimes said to her neighbor，Marguerite，'Just feel how hot my hands are！'
Nevertheless，when she combed her beautiful hair in the morning with an old broken comb，and it flowed about her like floss silk，she experienced a moment of happy coquetry.
BOOK FIFTH.——THE DESCENT
Ⅹ RESULT OF THE SUCCESS
She had been dismissed towards the end of the winter；the summer passed，but winter came again.
Short days，less work.
Winter：
no warmth，no light，no noonday，the evening joining on to the morning，fogs，twilight；the window is gray；it is impossible to see clearly at it.
The sky is but a vent-hole.The whole day is a cavern.
The sun has the air of a beggar.
A frightful season！Winter changes the water of heaven and the heart of man into a stone.Her creditors harrassed her.
Fantine earned too little.
Her debts had increased.
The Thenardiers，who were not promptly paid，wrote to her constantly letters whose contents drove her to despair，and whose carriage ruined her.One day they wrote to her that her little Cosette was entirely naked in that cold weather，that she needed a woollen skirt，and that her mother must send at least ten francs for this.She received the letter，and crushed it in her hands all day long.That evening she went into a barber's shop at the corner of the street，and pulled out her comb.
Her admirable golden hair fell to her knees.
'What splendid hair！'exclaimed the barber.
'How much will you give me for it？'said she.
'Ten francs.'
'Cut it off.'
She purchased a knitted petticoat and sent it to the Thenardiers.This petticoat made the Thenardiers furious.
It was the money that they wanted.
They gave the petticoat to Eponine.
The poor Lark continued to shiver.
Fantine thought：
'My child is no longer cold.
I have clothed her with my hair.'
She put on little round caps which concealed her shorn head，and in which she was still pretty.
Dark thoughts held possession of Fantine's heart.
When she saw that she could no longer dress her hair，she began to hate every one about her.
She had long shared the universal veneration for Father Madeleine；yet，by dint of repeating to herself that it was he who had discharged her，that he was the cause of her unhappiness，she came to hate him also，and most of all.When she passed the factory in working hours，when the workpeople were at the door，she affected to laugh and sing.
An old workwoman who once saw her laughing and singing in this fashion said，'There's a girl who will come to a bad end.
She took a lover，the first who offered，a man whom she did not love，out of bravado and with rage in her heart.
He was a miserable scamp，a sort of mendicant musician，a lazy beggar，who beat her，and who abandoned her as she had taken him，in disgust.
She adored her child.
The lower she descended，the darker everything grew about her，the more radiant shone that little angel at the bottom of her heart.She said，'When I get rich，I will have my Cosette with me；'and she laughed.
Her cough did not leave her，and she had sweats on her back.
One day she received from the Thenardiers a letter couched in the following terms：
'Cosette is ill with a malady which is going the rounds of the neighborhood.
A miliary fever，they call it.Expensive drugs are required.
This is ruining us，and we can no longer pay for them.
If you do not send us forty francs before the week is out，the little one will be dead.'
She burst out laughing，and said to her old neighbor：
'Ah！they are good！
Forty francs！the idea！
That makes two napoleons！Where do they think I am to get them？
These peasants are stupid，truly.'
Nevertheless she went to a dormer window in the staircase and read the letter once more.
Then she descended the stairs and emerged，running and leaping and still laughing.
Some one met her and said to her，'What makes you so gay？'
She replied：
'A fine piece of stupidity that some country people have written to me.
They demand forty francs of me.
So much for you，you peasants！'
As she crossed the square，she saw a great many people collected around a carriage of eccentric shape，upon the top of which stood a man dressed in red，who was holding forth.
He was a quack dentist on his rounds，who was offering to the public full sets of teeth，opiates，powders and elixirs.
Fantine mingled in the group，and began to laugh with the rest at the harangue，which contained slang for the populace and jargon for respectable people.
The tooth-puller espied the lovely，laughing girl，and suddenly exclaimed：
'You have beautiful teeth，you girl there，who are laughing；if you want to sell me your palettes，I will give you a gold napoleon apiece for them.'
'What are my palettes？'asked Fantine.
'The palettes，'replied the dental professor，'are the front teeth，the two upper ones.'
'How horrible！'exclaimed Fantine.
'Two napoleons！'grumbled a toothless old woman who was present.'Here's a lucky girl！'
Fantine fled and stopped her ears that she might not hear the hoarse voice of the man shouting to her：
'Reflect，my beauty！two napoleons；they may prove of service.
If your heart bids you，come this evening to the inn of the Tillac d'Argent；you will find me there.'
Fantine returned home.
She was furious，and related the occurrence to her good neighbor Marguerite：
'Can you understand such a thing？Is he not an abominable man？
How can they allow such people to go about the country！
Pull out my two front teeth！
Why，I should be horrible！My hair will grow again，but my teeth！
Ah！what a monster of a man！I should prefer to throw myself head first on the pavement from the fifth story！
He told me that he should be at the Tillac d'Argent this evening.'
'And what did he offer？'asked Marguerite.
'Two napoleons.'
'That makes forty francs.'
