The day had passed largely without event for Éponine, as did most days to tell the truth. It wasn't until right around dinnertime, when she happened to notice the date, that she realized there was anything significant about it. But that was why she was here now, sitting up on the rocks beside the ocean, a bottle of something-or-other alcoholic ( ( Read more... )

Éponine wasn't one for sentimentality -- or at least, she wasn't likely to admit to it. The way she'd grown up, it was only one more unneeded complication that at best would be an inconvenience and at worst could get you killed. But despite that she'd gone and allowed herself to indulge it, to entertain notions about young Monsieur le Baron ( Read more... )