Eponine for her part, nods. "I would like that. Thank you." He too care of her. But so had so many others. Before they got her walls down and drove a knife into her, twisting the blade when they could. She was an easy target. Ugly and stupid, with a wild imagination that was desperate for any sort of attention.
She shakes her head, just barely, letting the limp dirty locks of hair fall around her face. "You were better for him than I was, in Paris." All of those that fell at the barricade were better fathers to Gavroche than his own, than Eponine was a sister.
No, to call Eponine a good mother would have been a disaster. She'd found herself in such positions before, with no one to make an honest woman of her. The solution was obvious and painful, but she'd saved a life before it was born. She would not be a mother. Her body would not be able to stand it, nor was she up to the task mentally. What sort of mother would run off and drink three times her body weight?
What sort of mother longed to die?
She closes her dark eyes. "Thank you, again. He is such brightness, I will not see him dull as I have."
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She shakes her head, just barely, letting the limp dirty locks of hair fall around her face. "You were better for him than I was, in Paris." All of those that fell at the barricade were better fathers to Gavroche than his own, than Eponine was a sister.
No, to call Eponine a good mother would have been a disaster. She'd found herself in such positions before, with no one to make an honest woman of her. The solution was obvious and painful, but she'd saved a life before it was born. She would not be a mother. Her body would not be able to stand it, nor was she up to the task mentally. What sort of mother would run off and drink three times her body weight?
What sort of mother longed to die?
She closes her dark eyes. "Thank you, again. He is such brightness, I will not see him dull as I have."