Her very own house. Not Aunt Gillenormand's house, which has been given into her hands but which still has all its furniture, all its servants with their ideas of how things ought to be, all its weight of history. And Aunt Gillenormand, who never expresses an opinion about the running of the household, but Cosette has never been able to shed the feeling that she might, and that she ought to be free to. But in her own house, she could do everything just as she liked. She could make everything lovely. She could hire servants who would listen to her, who would listen to Marius. Their own house, really and truly theirs.
"But why couldn't we? Why couldn't we, husband? Perhaps Father even has that very house still! But even if not, we have money, we could rent the nicest little house, just you and me and a set of rooms for Father to live with us."
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Her very own house. Not Aunt Gillenormand's house, which has been given into her hands but which still has all its furniture, all its servants with their ideas of how things ought to be, all its weight of history. And Aunt Gillenormand, who never expresses an opinion about the running of the household, but Cosette has never been able to shed the feeling that she might, and that she ought to be free to. But in her own house, she could do everything just as she liked. She could make everything lovely. She could hire servants who would listen to her, who would listen to Marius. Their own house, really and truly theirs.
"But why couldn't we? Why couldn't we, husband? Perhaps Father even has that very house still! But even if not, we have money, we could rent the nicest little house, just you and me and a set of rooms for Father to live with us."