[Eponine is not great at self control - especially over her mouth. Especially when she's nervous and trying hard to make a good impression and seem confident. But give her credit. She tries. She really does try because she can see how annoyed and impatient the Lord is becoming and she really doesn't want to end up back in prison straight away.
So she nods to herself, and she takes a breath and, with a backwards glance to the window, she slides into the indicated seat. It's all she can do to stop herself from clapping her hands and exclaiming over the idea of food - real food, she hopes, hot and fresh - instead of a bun or even worse, the scraps she was fed in solitary.
She fidgets nervously, twisting her fingers through her ripped prison uniform until in the end, she sits on her hands in an effort to control herself.]

I'm... I mean, it is just - Sir, will you send me away? That's what the Queen in Hayle did, you know? She gave me a meal before she had the guards from Thorne take us back.