Jacques: We have to help Enjolras! I don't want that crazy old man to get him killed.
Claire: I'd help find him, but the baby...
Gavroche: I'll hold him!
Claire: (passing him the child) You're a good kid.
Gavroche: Thanks.
Jacques: Well then, I'll go this way, you go that way, and Gavroche... protect my child.
Gavroche: Will do.
(He sits and begins rocking the baby, who is already asleep. Jacques goes left. Claire goes right.)
(Claire runs into Montparnasse. Literally.)
Claire: Ow!
Montparnasse: Sorry, mamselle. (He helps her up.)
Claire: (a bit flustered) Oh my... well, hello, m'sieur.
Montparnasse: What are you doing all alone out here in the streets, my dear? Don't you know the National Guard is running loose?
Claire: Well, yes. In fact, I saw them kill the Authoress and a young girl.
Montparnasse: A young girl? What did she look like?
Claire: Well, it was Cosette Pontmercy.
Montparnasse: Pontmercy, eh? Well... Are you sure it wasn't Éponine? Éponine Montparnasse?
Claire: It wasn't.
Montparnasse: Shame.
(A moment of silence.)
Claire: Well, m'sieur, it's been a nice little chat, but I must find Enjolras.
Montparnasse: Oh, don't leave now, mamselle!
Claire: But... I must...
Montparnasse: Is it terribly urgent?
Claire: Well, yes... I mean, it's a matter of life or death, really.
Montparnasse: (abruptly) Do you think me handsome, mamselle?
Claire: O-Of course!
Montparnasse: What would you say if I told you that I found you pretty?
Claire: I... I'd be flattered.
Montparnasse: If I said beautiful?
Claire: M'sieur...
(He kisses her.)
Claire: Oh dear! Oh dear, oh dear...
Montparnasse: I'm sorry, mamselle. Was that wrong?
Claire: Well, yes...
Montparnasse: My apologies. I'll leave you.
Claire: Well... you don't really have to... to leave, do you?
Montparnasse: Not if you don't want me to.
(She doesn't.)
(Time passes.)
Montparnasse: (getting to his feet) Now I really must leave.
Claire: But why?
Montparnasse: The National Guard.
Claire: Will we... find each other in the streets again?
Montparnasse: Hmm... probably not. (He leaves.)
Claire: Wait...! Oh, well isn't that just like a man? (suddenly realizing what just happened) Oh my! Jacques! And the baby! Oh, my goodness, I must be a fool! What in the world...?
(She ponders for a while.)
Claire: Ah well, no matter. I suppose I'll just return... What is that noise?
Noise: RUN AWAY! IT'S A FIRING SQUAD, RUN AWAY!
Claire: Um...
(A runaway cart appears, its owner having apparently deserted it in fear of the National Guard. The horse does not see Claire, who does not move quickly enough to escape it. She is trampled.)
