Eponine takes the teacup. She doesn’t mean to be ungrateful, and she’s never had tea, but honestly, she’d rather just have the whiskey. When Nancy gives up the lady like act and swigs from the bottle, Eponine laughs.
“Nancy, I ain’t meaning your pardon, truly, but might I have the same? Just a mouthful. I won’t drink it all!”
She puts down the teacup carefully so as not to spill anything and looks across to Nancy’s wardrobe. She’s slightly shorter, slightly skinnier, but there’s not much in it at all. “What were your dress from home like?” She straightens out her rags, smoothing the tattered cloth as she folds them. “This were my pa’s chemise before it were mine. And this were my cloak when I were a child. It were fine once. Pretty even. I were, once upon a time. Can you believe?”
She grabs for the whiskey. “I’ve wanted a shawl for ages, you know? What’s yours like?”
no subject
“Nancy, I ain’t meaning your pardon, truly, but might I have the same? Just a mouthful. I won’t drink it all!”
She puts down the teacup carefully so as not to spill anything and looks across to Nancy’s wardrobe. She’s slightly shorter, slightly skinnier, but there’s not much in it at all.
“What were your dress from home like?”
She straightens out her rags, smoothing the tattered cloth as she folds them.
“This were my pa’s chemise before it were mine. And this were my cloak when I were a child. It were fine once. Pretty even. I were, once upon a time. Can you believe?”
She grabs for the whiskey.
“I’ve wanted a shawl for ages, you know? What’s yours like?”