"You call me a sad homeless person, Madame?" Eponine looked sharply at Mona. For a minute, she looked distinctly upset but then she sighs. At home, she was homeless now. And she was upset. Marius - he had said Cosette's name even now, even when she had tried to help him.

So she sighs and shrugs. "I suppose you are right. I am a hobo."

Mona's description of Paris means nothing to Eponine. Fashion models? Sexy? Smoking? Her papa smoked....

"The Marquis de Sade was in the same prison as me, Madame. He wrote of sex - but it is scandelous. He was long dead before me though."

Mona's gesture catches her eye too - Eponine bites her nails, so they're broken and the skin raw around them. Nothing like Mona's. She stares.

"What is a cactus? What does it look like?"