It's a good think Eponine's hidden power isn't mind reading, because she'd be annoyed if he thought she was doll-like or fragile. She doesn't try to sidle closer again; he apparently doesn't like it. She hadn't thought he was disgusted with her, but maybe he is.He wouldn't be the first.
She shrugs and asnwers with her own laugh. Her upbeat tone perhaps sounds odd in the darkness of the night, in the midst of their sorrowful conversation but Eponine's mood is prone to fluctuations. She hates to be sad.Her whole life is sad. She has to find sunshine in the darkness.
"Perhaps we are, M'sieur. It is funny, is it not, that we care what other people think of us. Perhaps we should stop. It is hard, though."
In the darkness, she bites her lip. Fidgets, even. But then her face hardens and she sticks her chin up.
"I don't care what you think. I don't care about what you - what?"
Is Warsman actually sympathising her? Actually admitting to be a thief? Offering her his own shoes?
"I don't want to steal. Honest, I try not to, M'sieur." She laughs again. "There is an idea, believing me! But I try not to, M'sieur. I want to be good, but... I have to live. And I owe so much now to other people. In Paris, I had my Papa's old shoes for church, but otherwise, I went barefoot - even in the snow. You cannot imagine the cold. At least here, it is not cold. I would sell a dress if I had time before I am due at Hattie's - but I am to be there for eight. I would not take your boots, though, M'sieur. You need them. And Hattie would surely accuse me of stealing them from you and give more trouble. Though - I am sorry. I should not talk of your friend in such a manner."
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She shrugs and asnwers with her own laugh. Her upbeat tone perhaps sounds odd in the darkness of the night, in the midst of their sorrowful conversation but Eponine's mood is prone to fluctuations. She hates to be sad.Her whole life is sad. She has to find sunshine in the darkness.
"Perhaps we are, M'sieur. It is funny, is it not, that we care what other people think of us. Perhaps we should stop. It is hard, though."
In the darkness, she bites her lip. Fidgets, even. But then her face hardens and she sticks her chin up.
"I don't care what you think. I don't care about what you - what?"
Is Warsman actually sympathising her? Actually admitting to be a thief? Offering her his own shoes?
"I don't want to steal. Honest, I try not to, M'sieur." She laughs again.
"There is an idea, believing me! But I try not to, M'sieur. I want to be good, but... I have to live. And I owe so much now to other people. In Paris, I had my Papa's old shoes for church, but otherwise, I went barefoot - even in the snow. You cannot imagine the cold. At least here, it is not cold.
I would sell a dress if I had time before I am due at Hattie's - but I am to be there for eight. I would not take your boots, though, M'sieur. You need them. And Hattie would surely accuse me of stealing them from you and give more trouble. Though - I am sorry. I should not talk of your friend in such a manner."