In truth, Éponine did not go to the meetings of Les Amis because she had any mind for revolution. Nor did she go specifically for Marius, even if watching him talk animatedly with his friends was not precisely what one would call unpleasant (he was much too occupied with his big ideas there to spend time with her).
She went because her mother couldn't paint her body black and blue there, went because her father couldn't spit filthy words at her there, couldn't ask her why she was so worthless there, couldn't strip her down to her chemise and push her out on the streets and lock the door until she came back with money there. It was warm in the little café, she couldn't feel the imprints of ravenous men's fingers on her bodies in the little cafe, and there was always a soul or two in the little cafe who was too drunk to tell her apart from their friends and who would purchase her food and a cup of ale.
(Éponine didn't have a soul, but she wouldn't begrudge the coin of those who did.)
They could sit here all night, talking loudly of revolution and Vive la France! and scare away all the other patrons with their toasts to a Republic that, as far as Éponine could tell, never actually existed except in the imaginations of university students with no other occupation to wile away long hours.
But she was more interested in raising her own silent toast to warm meals and a lice-free bed to sleep in.
note
this will grow a plot
someday