Eponine shrugs. "You do not have to like them, Madame. Sometimes, when you are starving, even when you hate yourself more for doing it, you must close your eyes and swallow the sick in your throat and chase after the fine ladies and gents and you open your hands and you beg. Madame, it is hard, but even a crumb, if it soothes your belly and stops your Papa from laying into you is better than a beating and an empty belly."

She opens the bottle and takes a small sip of water. She could drink the whole thing, but she knows from experience that water can at least fill the belly when food is scarce.

"I do not mind, Madame. I would rather you were alive than Monsieur Timaeus keep sending me presents."