She starts out of her chair, just enough to move to sit beside him on his narrow bed with its strange soft Milliways mattress. Then she can rest her head on his shoulder, half sitting and half lying down like a child curled up against her father, to stop him fumbling at his arms and give them both comfort, and to spare herself the unbearable sight of his face so pained and dazed. All her life he's been the strong center, the anchor and the constant; she can't bear any longer to look at that expression on his face.
"You mustn't speak of dying. You're not going to leave your little Cosette. You're not! To think of it! You will never be alone again, Papa."
no subject
She starts out of her chair, just enough to move to sit beside him on his narrow bed with its strange soft Milliways mattress. Then she can rest her head on his shoulder, half sitting and half lying down like a child curled up against her father, to stop him fumbling at his arms and give them both comfort, and to spare herself the unbearable sight of his face so pained and dazed. All her life he's been the strong center, the anchor and the constant; she can't bear any longer to look at that expression on his face.
"You mustn't speak of dying. You're not going to leave your little Cosette. You're not! To think of it! You will never be alone again, Papa."