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Like every Sunday, Jean Valjean and Inspector Javert would go out before lunch and take a walk in the streets of Paris. They would rarely talk during these outings and rather enjoy the nice weather and the calm in the streets. Valjean and Javert were used to the lively and buzzing city. The former felt safer in the crowd of busy people, the latter thrived when he could stake all the inhabitants while being himself in the shadow. But on Sundays, they could enjoy Paris bathing in a calm joy, the young couples strolling, the tenants taking a day off and chatting with each other, the families going to church. Javert and Valjean did not want to experience other massacres like the revolution nipped in the bud that happened almost six months before. By seeing Paris today, who would have thought that soldiers had invaded the paving stones to counter students full of ideals the previous summer? But this folk that the revolutionaries wanted to free had already forgotten the tragic event. The