"No, Mademoiselle. I would not let them." she replied tightly, hugging her skinny arms about her body.

She eyed Cosette warily. "You don't curtsey to me. Not any more. Not for a long time. You don't remember me as your sister - I am the beggar who accosted you in church and led you to our rooms. Things do not change here, Mademoiselle."

She couldn't look at Cosette; she looked at her feet. The girl was beautiful, so lovely in all aspects. And Eponine hated her for it.