TO CARVE AN ANGEL FROM MARBLE act four, chapter thirty three
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( april 1832 )
WHENEVER MADELEINE WAS IN search of a new book to read, she almost always sought out Prouvaire for help. He often recommended various romance novels, which she never particularly minded— however, she was pleasantly surprised when, upon running into him at the library one afternoon and asking him for a recommendation, he pointed out a fairly new book that the library had just received.
"It's a beautifully written story about love, lust, and jealously, while also addressing the collective flaw of humankind: our judgmental nature," the red-haired poet explained as he handed her the book.
It had a beautiful burgundy cover with the title engraved in eloquent golden letters: Notre-Dame de Paris.
"The author resides here in Paris," Prouvaire continued. "I've been told that he donated this copy to the library himself."
"Merci, Prouvaire," said Madeleine with a warm grin. She tucked the book beneath her arm before she followed him back to their seats, where Marius had been sitting since he joined them earlier that afternoon.
He had a book open in his lap, though it lay completely forgotten as he stared blankly at a random spot on the wall. It was obvious that he was lost in thought and, judging by the lopsided smile that he wore, Madeleine guessed that he was thinking about his mystery girl.
She nudged Prouvaire with her elbow, gesturing toward the lovestruck man, and the pair laughed lightly as they took a seat across from him. Prouvaire, ever the romantic and a man who enjoyed learning about the love lives of his friends, called his name in an attempt to grab his attention. It was only when he spoke, mentioning the girl who had captured Marius's heart, that the freckled man was seemingly pulled from whatever trance he was in.
"Any luck on finding your Juliet?"
Juliet was the name given to the mystery girl by Prouvaire, for Marius had yet to find out what she was actually called. Madeleine still found it ridiculous that he was claiming to love a woman whose name he did not know; Prouvaire, on the other hand, found it to be incredibly romantic and "the epitome of love at first sight."
"Not yet," said Marius with a wistful sigh. "But I've convinced a dear friend of mine to help me search for her. It's only a matter of time!"
Madeleine's eyes narrowed skeptically. "How on Earth is this friend of yours going to find this poor girl? Please, Marius, do not be creepy," she pleaded.
"Creepy?" Marius echoed. "No, 'Ponine knows the streets better than anyone, you see. If anyone could find my love, it will be her."
Madeleine still wasn't convinced, but she said nothing more. She flipped her book open and began to read, hoping that the story contained within the pages was somehow more realistic than Marius's almost pathetic desperation for this random woman.
