She barks a laugh as he tells her about starving to death. As if she had not realised by now how long it took. Had she not been starving now for nearly a decade, slowly wasting away, clinging by her nails to life? She had given herself a sentence of six months more, before she had come here.She had been dying and she knew it. But here, fattened up a little, it'd take weeks of no food at all.

Laughing in the face of death. Yes, Eponine - another person now who thinks you're mad. She shuts up quickly, focusing on his word. A foreign word. Not French. Not Argot. Not even this English she somehow spoke fluently.

"You call me a 'zanganos'? What is that?"

But she sighs. She had stood and waited for death last time. But it had not come.She had been carried off, 'saved'.

"I promised Valeria I would try this time." She looked around and then sighed. "I suppose I will go to the castle, still. Even if it is not real. And you, Monsieur? Where will you go? I wish you luck, anyway."

Even if hope is pointless.