Enjolras says nothing, but it's not difficult for Combeferre to know what he's thinking. Enjolras is quiet but transparent, and in any case, Combeferre is thinking the same thing.

"I think it was a real Paris, not a dream," he says. "As I understand it, the Labyrinth takes us to places that exist, albeit in other worlds, other universes. That Paris is as true as ours." Combeferre has no words for the joy and the pain of that--something so wondrous, so real, and so unattainable for them. But still real, still true.