Upon his entrance, Montparnasse could see that Thenardier had already out his daughter to work cleaning the inn. The other men had dispersed, no doubt preparing for a day of work. Montparnasse slunk upstairs.
"C'mon, hurry up. We got work t' do."
Thenardier shoved Montparnasse along, despite the young man's protests. But there was no physical way to resist the burly creature that was Thenardier, so Montparnasse quickly dodged into him room, slipping on his gloves and grabbing his knife. By the time he returned to the corridor, Thenardier was already making his way downstairs. Montparnasse followed close behind, leaving the in without much more than a nod to Eponine. And once more he was driven out into the cold, this time surrounded by his comrades.
"Alright, off with ya."
The men all went off in their own directions, hoping to cover more ground. Montparnasse wandered about the streets, seeing very few people. He debated whether or not to head toward the center of the city. Many people pooled there, but were more aware of those around them. He decided the city was his best bet and headed in that direction, hoping for success.
The town was always his favorite place. A colorful array of people, the gamins and pickpockets, the whores and drunks. And the few and far between rich. Jamming his hands in his pockets, Montparnasse made his way into the throng of people. A sharp breeze had picked up, tossing his black hair into his eyes. He burrowed himself deeper in his coat; it was becoming colder than even he was comfortable with. His eyes flitted back and forth, searching for a glimpse of money that may have been forgotten in the streets. Though he enjoyed the thrill of actually pick pocketing and was quite good at it, he wasn't in the mood today. And his begging days were over; he was too old for the sympathetic people to find him adorable. If he did not come back with anything, Thenardier would most probably throw him out for the night. Preoccupied with his thoughts, Montparnasse inadvertently collided with another man walking about.
"Sorry messieur," he muttered, keeping his head ducked in his coat.
"Watch where yer goin'. Damn kids..."
The man grumbled and turned to go in the other direction. Montparnasse noticed a wallet protruding from the man's pocket. Stealthily and yet ever so precisely, Montparnasse pulled the wallet from the man's pocket and was swallowed back into the crowd before the man suspected anything.
"Mmn, looks like I'm not the one who should be watching," Montparnasse purred, opening the wallet. Twenty francs. Quite a score for his first hit. Examining the wallet, he found it was unblemished by any identification.
"Might fetch a fine price. My thanks, messieur."
He slipped the wallet into an inner pocket of his jacket and continued to stroll around town. During his walk, Montparnasse found his thoughts reverting to Eponine. She seemed to fear him so. And it pained him, to see his friend pull away from him, to see her slowly wasting away because of something that was so idiotic. It was as though Eponine were dying and there was no way to console her. After all, what can you say to someone who is dying? Montparnasse gritted his teeth and tugged on a lock of his hair; he would turn in for the day. He was starting to feel ill and his headache had escalated into greater pain. In Thenardier wasn't pleased with twenty francs...Montparnasse couldn't really say he cared. And so he wove his way through the masses, slowly returning to the inn.
Once he returned, he saw that Eponine was still engrossed in her task. Montparnasse took the wallet from his jacket, tossed it on the bar counter and hung his jacket on the back of a chair which he promptly planted himself in.
"Oh. You're home early, 'Parnasse."
"Mmph."
Eponine smiled at him and rested her broom against the wall. She sat in the chair next to the scowling Montparnasse.
"Still in a bad mood?"
"Possibly."
"Why d'ya live offa crime, 'Parnasse?"
"What else can I do?"
Eponine sighed; she didn't know how to answer his question. She rested her elbows on the table, holding her chin in her hands. Montparnasse followed in suit, tilting his head so that he could still see Eponine. The girl leaned in toward her friend until her face was a mere inch from his. Montparnasse was ready to touch his lips to hers, but Eponine spoke before he could move.
"I guess you'll 'ave t' figure that one out yourself."
With that, Eponine got up from the table and went back to her chores. Montparnasse sighed and leaned back in his chair, awaiting the arrival of the other men.