Eponine smiles, and at once, the melancholy that had greyed her face lifts. He could have so easily told her to go away; Eponine can barely believe that she even asked him if she could stay. But Warsman hasn't sent her away. And maybe, just maybe, he really wants her company. It's difficult for Eponine to understand but she decides to smile through it and worry later.

"That is impressive, M'sieur. And you enjoy it? I have seen wrestling, of course. They show it at the theatre, on occasion, and my brother, Gavroche, he knows - well, he knows everyone, but the theatre staff like him, and he sometimes gives me a ticket to see the shows. It looks violent - do you like fighting then?"

His question catches her off guard and she pauses in her awkward chatter to actually think about it. She shakes her head, and adds with a laugh.
"Mama taught me letters and Papa taught me to steal. But that is all. I can fight back, though, M'sieur. I have fought 'Parnasse by himself - I think he let me win that time though. And he has taught me how to slit throats and stab, but I don't like doing that.If I HAD to, I could... but it is no use against my Papa anyway. He will confront me only when he has his gang there - and no matter how good a fighter I am, I could not beat six men or more with weapons with just me by myself."

She shrugs. What else is there to stay. To those who are stations higher than her in life, Eponine is as rough and ready as they come, and more than capable of fighting off a man's unwanted advances. But against people of her own kind... well, her Papa would make sure that she is completely outnumbered.

"It is okay, though, you know. None of them are here, so it is best not to think on what might happen at home."