[The drone of the machine and the wet beat of the rain against the pavement gives way to the sterile quiet of the laboratory into which he has been compelled as if by the work of gravity. What silence might have followed is broken by the fussing of the infant in the arms of the bearded man. Jean Valjean has many questions, and no answers can be found in the fragments he sees.]
Madame Lutece, are you there?
[He asks this not of the apparition beside him, assuming her to be a fixture of the memory. Rather, he seeks among the sleek equipment and instruments the woman from whose memory this scene must have been torn like a page from a book.]
no subject
Madame Lutece, are you there?
[He asks this not of the apparition beside him, assuming her to be a fixture of the memory. Rather, he seeks among the sleek equipment and instruments the woman from whose memory this scene must have been torn like a page from a book.]