"Well... I used to sing sometimes. Not well or anything. Just to make me think of being someone I am not and somewhere I am not. And I used to tell myself stories. I think the women thought I was mad. Maybe I am - do mad people know they are mad?"

Eponine smiled a dreamy smile at Ella, lost in her thoughts. "It made everything bearable, you know, to sing. I used to pretend I had a lovely voice, like the actors, or the ladies I sometimes listened to through the windows of the big houses."