After all these weeks Eponine had spent with Marius and Cosette, she had lost her haggard, dirty, ragged looks, and she didn´t shiver for pain and coldness anymore. Cosette had accepted her as a part of the house, this unexpected heroine, this ugly madwoman, who read poetry with her husband.
Words painted life without youth, blood of red roses, marvelous beauty and dazzling cleanliness. Eponine´s madness was soothed by florid, voluptuous words. She wrote and read them, carried them with her in a little book which Marius has given to her. First time for many years she was happy.
There was now only roses, misery was gone.