Germain's features were wanting in regularity, but a more interesting face
could scarcely be seen; his bearing was exalted; his figure graceful; his
dress plain, but neat (gray trousers and a black frock-coat closely
buttoned), showed none of that slovenly carelessness so peculiar to
prisoners; his white hands bore witness of a care for his person which had
still more increased the aversion of the other prisoners; for moral
perversity is almost always joined to personal filthiness. His brown hair,
naturally curled, which he wore long and parted on the side, according to
the fashion of the times, hung around his pale and dejected face; his eyes,
of a beautiful blue, announced frankness and kindness; his smiles, at once
sad and sweet, expressed benevolence and habitual melancholy; for, although
very young, this unfortunate youth had experienced many trials.

In a word, nothing could be more touching than his appearance, suffering,
affecting, resigned; as also nothing more honest, more loyal, than the
heart of this young man. The cause even of his arrest (despoiling it of the
calumnious aggravations due to the hatred of Jacques Ferrand) proved the
kind-heartedness of Germain, and accused him only of a moment's
thoughtlessness or imprudence; culpable, doubtless, but pardonable, when
one reflects that he was able to replace in the desk of the notary the sum
taken to save Morel the lapidary. Germain blushed slightly when, through
the grating, he perceived the fresh and charming face of Rigolette. She,
according to her custom, wished to appear gay, to encourage and cheer his
spirits; but she ill-concealed the sorrow and emotion that she had always
felt since he had been imprisoned. Seated on a bench on the other side of
the railing, she held on her lap her basket.

The old warder, instead of remaining in the passage, went and seated