"And what does that matter?" Eponine returned. "What does it matter to whom you belong? You can be you in your head. Even if I cannot say my French nor my Argot no more, Miss, I can think on it. I cannot say what I think or they shall chop out my tongue, but they cannot stop me thinking it."

She hesitated a moment, wondering if she should share such a private thought with a complete stranger. But Eponine decided that an illustration might be the best way to make Mariko understand what she meant, so shyly, she continued, " Me, in my head, I sleep every day in a field of glorious flowers with a lovely gentleman who truly loves me. It is a dream, a happy thought to stop the screams. But really, perhaps, I lie alone behind a bin when Jessica throws me out. But even in the cold, you know, no matter how much I smell and what I do to earn a drink, in my head, I can be beautiful, Miss You understand, yes?"

There was a sudden fierce light in her dull eyes, as she remembered the indignities that she had been put through over the past two years. "Miss, i have had my chest made big, and my teeth sharpened, and my eyes are yellow and - and dresses. God! But it don't matter, because I can close my eyes and think I look like anything. In here - " She tapped her head, "- they cannot hurt me."