Eponine sets the bottle down and it clatters to the side uselessly. Heavy eyes watch him look at her. She has seen faces like his before so often in her life. Only this time she does not have it in her to fight.

"He is right to be rid of me," she tells him, her voice hardly above a whisper. She's screamed and cried so long and so hard it will take days to get her voice back.

"I did this," she says, looking down now at her bare feet amongst the broken glass. "Hitting him in his pretty face was not enough- the hurt should have been my own." Her shoulders are up near her ears with tension, bracing herself. She knows what men are capable of, and she would not blame him.