Combeferre frowns, both at the thought of M. Fauchelevent's pain, and at the thought of his daughter's ignorance.
"She may not," Combeferre says. "But the world does, and she can, if she reads the book. I won't inform her myself; it's not my place, as a stranger to her, and a near-stranger to her father. He has the right to share his secrets with his daughter in his own time. But not the right to leave her unprotected against information the world knows."
Combeferre takes a deep breath. "There are also sections of the book concerning Mlle Fauchelevent herself--her childhood and youth--that she may not want widely known, on her own account. There are descriptions of her that she might find...improper. She can't do anything about them, of course. But I believe one has the right to know if there are near-salacious descriptions of one circulating to the public at large. Even if it's the public of the future. She is at Milliways. She may encounter those who have read it, and they may not all be as harmless as I am." This last is said dryly.
"Speaking of improper descriptions." Combeferre supposes he may as well say it now. They're in private, just the three of them. Enjolras will be as comfortable as possible when he hears this. "You should know, Enjolras--I don't expect you'll read the book, and there's no reason why you should--but Hugo becomes rather...florid, in his portrayal of you."
no subject
"She may not," Combeferre says. "But the world does, and she can, if she reads the book. I won't inform her myself; it's not my place, as a stranger to her, and a near-stranger to her father. He has the right to share his secrets with his daughter in his own time. But not the right to leave her unprotected against information the world knows."
Combeferre takes a deep breath. "There are also sections of the book concerning Mlle Fauchelevent herself--her childhood and youth--that she may not want widely known, on her own account. There are descriptions of her that she might find...improper. She can't do anything about them, of course. But I believe one has the right to know if there are near-salacious descriptions of one circulating to the public at large. Even if it's the public of the future. She is at Milliways. She may encounter those who have read it, and they may not all be as harmless as I am." This last is said dryly.
"Speaking of improper descriptions." Combeferre supposes he may as well say it now. They're in private, just the three of them. Enjolras will be as comfortable as possible when he hears this. "You should know, Enjolras--I don't expect you'll read the book, and there's no reason why you should--but Hugo becomes rather...florid, in his portrayal of you."