And the girl my family raised, [she remarks with bitterness, taking another drink. She needs to move, Eponine realizes as her feet take her across the room and then back again, still holding her glass.]

He does not know, and he shall not- he shall never love me then. Why does he not realize? He will not have her until he returns! What use is loving someone lost when I am here? When I am wiling to give myself to him? I have slept in his bed, Joly, felt his breath on my neck, calmed him in his night terrors! Has she? No! It is only me that knows, that has done so for him.

[She laughs again, taking another drink. The idea hits her, and she moves without fully recognizing it, dashing the glass against the wall of the suite.] I hate her as I love him! If only someone could look at me the way he looks at her! To feel that way! But I am a monster. Unloveable. I died unloved and shall always remain so!