[She laughs loudly.] Well, Sir, perhaps that is where you shall find me on a winter's morning. And you must not chase me away, for truly, I won't steal from you. It is just for the warmth, you understand.

[She looks back at her book, stroking it gently.]

I could practice my writing - I can write, you know? I know I don't look much, but I was not always meant to be such a woman as I am, you know? But I do not see much honour in selling matches, Sir. I don't want to be that. You know, my brother can fly? I would rather do that, I think.

[She sighs. Eponine rarely gets her way.] Thank you, Sir, for the biscuits, and for stopping with me. I ought not to take more of your time. I suppose I ought to try to sell these beastly matches so I can at least buy a hot meal for the night.

[She stands up, and brushes down her filthy rags, and pushes her bundles of matches into her pockets. Quickly, she curtseys.]

Thank you, Sir.