He never went beyond Toulon. Day after day, night after night, there was nothing but the guarding of the prisoners. He heard little of the world outside; he was never promoted. He walked the same path, back and forth, year after year. In his mind, his most vibrant years had passed. The war had ended. All news was now brought with each new or returning prisoner.
Still, in the back of his mind, something murmured Valjean.
no subject
Still, in the back of his mind, something murmured Valjean.