[There's something about the sea. So often it's drawn lonely souls to it, and even here, there's no exception. Eponine's drawn, like a moth to a flame, to the undulating waves and the salty, rocky beach. She's too scared to edge close to the water: it reminds her of that night in the Seine, and though she knows that her life is better now, she's still worried about what she'd do.
She spends her time further up, letting her feet sink into the sand, letting it squeeze through her fingers and cling to the rough fabric of the dress she had stolen from the town. When she sees Julie, though, she stops dead in her tracks. Considering they escaped together, Eponine's done well to avoid being alone with her. But here they both are. Eponine purses her lips. The bruises on her face have mostly healed now, but her nose is still crooked, and the terror of being left again in the solitary cell still visits her nightmares. And it's all Julie's fault. She can't help herself.]
Such an ugly dress on such an ugly woman. You suit it, Miss Julie, truly you do.
Coast
She spends her time further up, letting her feet sink into the sand, letting it squeeze through her fingers and cling to the rough fabric of the dress she had stolen from the town. When she sees Julie, though, she stops dead in her tracks. Considering they escaped together, Eponine's done well to avoid being alone with her. But here they both are.
Eponine purses her lips. The bruises on her face have mostly healed now, but her nose is still crooked, and the terror of being left again in the solitary cell still visits her nightmares. And it's all Julie's fault. She can't help herself.]
Such an ugly dress on such an ugly woman. You suit it, Miss Julie, truly you do.