Combeferre doesn't notice Enjolras's golden halo. He's grown accustomed to such things. But he, too, looks into the fireplace, finding some comfort in its warmth and light.

At Enjolras's declaration that killing is more honest, Combeferre winces. He can't truly argue; nevertheless, there's something cruelly absurd about such a statement.

"Let us hope it will not come to that point," he says. "When do you expect to hear from Valjean on this subject, distressed as he is?"