Eponine knelt at the street's edge, putting down a finger to touch the snow that had fallen. "Isn't it wonderful, Azelma?" she breathed, tucking back a tangled clump of hair.

"No," her sister answered flatly. She folded her arms in a futile attempt to keep warm. "There's ice underneath, see?" With one trembling foot, she nudged aside the top layer of snow to expose a thin sheet of ice. "I slipped on it and now I have another bruise. I hate it."

Eponine ignored her. "Why, I saw M'sieur Marius coming home once, with snow in his hair, just like this..." She scooped up a bit of snow on her forefinger and put it in her hair. "Didn't you see? Just yesterday. I think it was yesterday."

Azelma snorted.