"I could wish the entire damned place to hell," Éponine answered in a tight voice, in the moment before it caught up to her that someone else could see this, and know just how far she'd fallen.

In the memory, her father had come over to them and was now taking the younger Éponine's cloak away, tearing the sleeve off her blouse and muttering about how she didn't look pitiful enough to get anyone's sympathy, let alone money; meanwhile, Azelma continued to muffle her crying.

"But never mind that!" she exclaimed with a too-loud laugh to cover up her sudden sense of shame. "It's nothing but tricks anyhow, isn't it?"