"Well, you're no Venus yourself," Grantaire muttered after a retreating waitress. "Which means any self respecting Vulcan ought to hold out for better. Jehan, your face clashes with your vest when it turns that color. What now?" Jehan hesitated. "Go on, tell me. I won't bite. At least, not you."
Jehan reluctantly began to explain. "Well, if you want to hear it, then I'll tell you. Just because you don't think there is a solution doesn't mean you have to be part of the problem." Grantaire rolled his eyes and took a drink. Only that delay gave Jehan a chance to continue. "I'm not going to turn into Enjolras, but I mean it. Do whatever you want to yourself, but it's a crime of the old regime to treat women as slaves and drag angels into the gutter. If you don't think the government can protect the rights of its citizens, then the least you can do is not violate them yourself."
"The rights or the citizens?" Grantaire asked. "If the latter, don't worry, that one has made it clear enough she's too troublesome to be worth it. And as for the former, I'm surprised at you. You're the one degrading women, my friend, not I- except for that one as an individual, but she's proven herself to have a violent nature and I'm not about to excuse that just because it's concealed inside a dress. Now, if I were to slap you on the seat of your pants and tell you how pretty you were, that might be suspicious but it wouldn't put your rights in any danger, correct?"
"Correct," Jehan answered, a bit apprehensive.
In spite of a warning glance from Combeferre to be careful, Grantaire continued. "So, if I attempted the same with you as I just did with her, you might have been shocked, offended, or repulsed- the latter two of which you'll see she also demonstrated- but you wouldn't have been being oppressed. Why then would a woman? That one was clearly capable enough of defending herself- probably more so than a shy, dainty little thing like you would be. My bad solution is to assume that women are creatures on my level- the gutter, and your bad solution is to assume they're too delicate to handle the world. Or don't you realize how laughable it is never to love but to worship?"
"And of course you are more sensible than that," Combeferre interjected, almost to himself.
Yet these quiet words reached their subject. Grantaire's eyes dropped momentarily to the table, and he was silent.