Eponine's heart sinks as she pockets the coin silently. It is getting worse, her hunger. So desperate that she cannot tell the living from the undead. If Montparnasse were here, if any of the Patron Minette were here, they would laugh at her. How ridiculous, not recognising her own kind.
She licks her lips. "Two nights, three, Monsieur, perhaps. It is a long way to walk from Dover, and I have no protection from the sun." She shrugs, and turns away. His words make her think though.
"You know of me? From Paris? Are you Jean-Claude, Monsieur, or Monsieur Borgia?"
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Eponine's heart sinks as she pockets the coin silently. It is getting worse, her hunger. So desperate that she cannot tell the living from the undead. If Montparnasse were here, if any of the Patron Minette were here, they would laugh at her. How ridiculous, not recognising her own kind.
She licks her lips. "Two nights, three, Monsieur, perhaps. It is a long way to walk from Dover, and I have no protection from the sun." She shrugs, and turns away. His words make her think though.
"You know of me? From Paris? Are you Jean-Claude, Monsieur, or Monsieur Borgia?"