...Oooh, I hate you. Notice how long it took me to do this.
He's been watching her a damn sight longer than Pontmercy is. He never sees her in the Garden itself; no, he watches her go in and out, that's his spot to sell in the afternoons. He's watched her change. He's watched her growing up. He noticed her even before she became a woman. He's listened to her speak with her father, and studied the way she says her words, the way the old man addresses her. Now, when Pontmercy sighs and dreams, Feuilly keeps his most precious secret to himself: he knows what her name really is.
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...Oooh, I hate you. Notice how long it took me to do this.
He's been watching her a damn sight longer than Pontmercy is. He never sees her in the Garden itself; no, he watches her go in and out, that's his spot to sell in the afternoons. He's watched her change. He's watched her growing up. He noticed her even before she became a woman. He's listened to her speak with her father, and studied the way she says her words, the way the old man addresses her. Now, when Pontmercy sighs and dreams, Feuilly keeps his most precious secret to himself: he knows what her name really is.