"Valjean: Dear Cosette You’re such a lonely child! How pensive, how sad you seem to be. Believe me, if it were in my power I’d fill each passing hour. How quiet it must be, I can see, With only me for company. Cosette: There’s so little I know that I’m longing to know Of the child that I was and the time long ago! There’s so little you say of the life you have known, Why you keep to yourself, why we’re always alone! So dark, so dark and deep, The secrets that you keep. In my life I have all that I want You are loving and gentle and good. But Papa, dear Papa, in your eyes I am just like a child who is lost in a wood. Valjean: No more words! No more words, it’s a time that is dead! There are words, that are better unheard, better unsaid! Cosette: In my life I’m no longer a child And I yearn for the truth that you know Of the years Years ago. Valjean: You will learn Truth is given by God to us all in our time. In our turn."