“We had stories, Sir. Cinderella and that. I didn’t think it were real. Just what you tell children, you know?”

And herself as she lay freezing beneath a bridge, or worse, in a stranger’s bed.
Quite unaware that Spike was sizing her up, Eponine sidled closer. She tilts her head with what she hopes is a coy smile. The effect is ruined by her blackened teeth.

“I ain’t never heard of Spike as a name, you know? It is quite lovely.”