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was as of a passage of demons over his cradle. He had an impression of
having been trodden in the darkness under deformed feet. Was this
intentional or not? He was ignorant on this point. That which he
remembered clearly and to the slightest detail were his tragical
adventures when deserted at Portland. The finding of Dea made that
dismal night a radiant date for him.
The memory of Dea, even more than that of Gwynplaine, was lost in
clouds. In so young a child all remembrance melts away. She recollected
her mother as something cold. Had she ever seen the sun? Perhaps so. She
made efforts to pierce into the blank which was her past life.
"
The sun!--what was it?"
She had some vague memory of a thing luminous and warm, of which
Gwynplaine had taken the place.
They spoke to each other in low tones. It is certain that cooing is the
most important thing in the world. Dea often said to Gwynplaine,--
"
Light means that you are speaking."
Once, no longer containing himself, as he saw through a muslin sleeve
the arm of Dea, Gwynplaine brushed its transparency with his lips--ideal
kiss of a deformed mouth! Dea felt a deep delight; she blushed like a
rose. This kiss from a monster made Aurora gleam on that beautiful brow
full of night. However, Gwynplaine sighed with a kind of terror, and as
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