Why had she been smiling at him?
Enjolras sorted through a stack of fliers, lost in thought that had ranged from the number of supporters they might have during the revolt, to figuring out the end of his speech, and then finally to Eponine.
An hour earlier he had re-entered the cafe with the fliers and found himself locked in a momentary stare with her.
She was smiling at him. Why had she been smiling?
He had seen a piece of paper on the table in front of her ... his letter? Had he said something in it that made her smile? That was definitely not his intention.
Enjolras looked up at the table where Eponine had been sitting earlier. She was gone now, along with Marius and most everyone else. Combeferre was the only other person in the cafe. He was sitting at a different table, scribbling down some of the things that had been said during the meeting in a notebook.
"Combeferre?" Enjolras asked, trying to sound casual.
Combeferre didn't look up from his work. "Hmm?"
Enjolras tried to work out how to phrase his question. "If I ... or if someone ..." He sighed, "When a person should happen to ..."
Combeferre looked up slowly over his glasses inquisitively. "Are you all right?"
Enjolras began sorting his fliers faster than before. "Yes."
"Then what are you trying to ask me?"
Enjolras stopped and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "If you were to make eye contact with a person whom you did not really know and they were smiling at you when you looked at them, what would you say that signifies?"
Combeferre blinked. "Uh ..."
"You know what?" Enjolras held up his hands to stop Combeferre from answering. "Never mind. I really do not care. There are far more important things to deal with than the smile of some woman."
Combeferre raised his eyebrow. "A woman smiled at you?"
Enjolras quickly went back to sorting. "What?"
"You said the 'smile of some woman.' Did Eponine smile at you or something?"
"No. Forget I said anything." Enjolras felt his cheeks flush slightly.
Combeferre noticed but pretended to ignore it. "As you wish."
The next day, Enjolras once again found a uniquely folded piece of paper halfway stuck under his door. He found it odd how excited it made him feel to see his named printed on the front and the prospect of the new information he might find inside.
When he sat down and opened the letter, something slid out and fell onto his lap. It was another folded piece of paper and Enjolras picked it up and examined it curiously. He decided to read the letter and perhaps there would be an explanation of the strange little gift.
He started to read.
Enjolras,
Afraid of women! What a strange thing to say.
I am intrigued by your comment about the difference between spoken and written conversation. I agree, of course – in fact, I am much better at writing to people than speaking to them. But I also think you can count this as a conversation. Tell that to your friend Grantaire. (Perhaps do not mention that the girl with whom you've spoken spends more time among men than women anyway.)
I fear that too many women these days concern themselves with frivolous matters. Many of them care only about romance and fancy clothes. (There was a time, not too long ago, when I was primarily concerned with these things.) However, since you asked, I would be happy to search out those members of my sex who can handle the weightier issues.
A job … that depends on your definition of the word. Honestly, I was doing something for Marius. He wanted information on the "other lady," as you called her. You may be interested to know that, today, I told him no. If he wants her, he can learn about her without my help. I am beginning to realize that I have better and more important things to do with my time. It is a strange yet liberating idea. In the past I could never refuse him. Marius is good, though, and I know we can remain friends.
This is a change in the subject, but have you ever thought about what you would do if things were different? You are still very young. Suppose you survive the revolution—what would you do? Help set up a new government? I would quite like to see that. What do you study in school anyway?
Sometimes I think about how it would be to have more options, if I were a well-off lady. Then I think I probably have more freedom now than I would in the upper class. Besides, all my friends are here, including brave Gavroche.
Feuilly seems nice. I'm enclosing something else for him to fold and unfold. I hope he likes pigeons.
Eponine
Enjolras looked at the other folded paper again. He smiled; it was indeed a pigeon. He would have to remember to show it to Feuilly.
Enjolras read through the letter once again and felt a touch of pride when Eponine mentioned that she refused to assist Marius in some ridiculous task. He was glad that she felt liberated and … he was proud of her.
But there was another paragraph that caught his eye, specifically another sentence.
"Suppose you survive the revolution …"
Suppose he survived? Was she was suggesting that it was likely that he would die? He hadn't ever thought of that. Of course, he was willing to die for the cause but he mostly just envisioned success.
"Suppose you survive the revolution …"
"Writing back your fair lady?" Feuilly asked, sitting at Enjolras's table.
Enjolras glanced up at him. "No, and do not call her that. She is an acquaintance, nothing more."
"I think it is very sweet, Enjolras." Jean Prouvaire said, walking over to the table. "Writing letters back and forth is very romantic." He coughed when he saw Enjolras's glare. "Romantic in a non … romantic way, of course. Romantic as in, bumping into someone at the park, complimenting their jacket and then never seeing them again."
Enjolras raised his eyebrow and then returned to writing his speech. He didn't mention to any of them that he had written Eponine back the moment he'd finished reading her letter. He still had the reply folded up in his pocket though … he hadn't seen Eponine at all tonight. Marius came and Enjolras had looked up for a second to see if Eponine was with him, but she wasn't.
He thought back to her letter. She had talked about the liberating feeling of not doing everything Marius asked her to do. Enjolras wondered if that meant that she would no longer follow Marius into the Musain … that she wouldn't come back.
No, that couldn't be the reason. She was a part of the cause now; she had said so herself. So why wasn't she here?
Enjolras saw Gavroche saunter into the room and strike up a conversation with Courfeyrac and Grantaire. He thought about asking him where Eponine was but he decided against it.
"What is that?" Feuilly's voice pulled Enjolras out of his thoughts.
He looked down and saw the Feuilly was pointing to the pigeon that Eponine had folded. "A paper bird." He picked it up and handed it to Feuilly. "Eponine folded it for you."
"Really?" Feuilly's eyes lit up as he examined the bird. "She is very talented."
Enjolras nodded. "She seems to be." He put his pen down and looked over his completed speech. "I am going to go read this to Combeferre." He reached into his pocket and fished out his reply letter to Eponine. "Should she walk in while I am occupied, will you give her this?" Enjolras put the letter down in the middle of the table and looked at his friends. "If either of you alter it, or read it, we will have words later."
Prouvaire eyed the letter warily. "I shall not lay a finger on it, unless it is to give it to the party in question."
Enjolras looked at Feuilly who nodded in agreement with Prouvaire.
"Good." Enjolras got up and started to walk over to Combeferre. He turned around once more to look at the steps to their room. Eponine still wasn't there.
Where was she?
