"Of course, madame!" Eponine says with a curtsey. It's a messy curtsey, as much of what she does is. "Would you like red or white? Oh! And then there is a pink wine, too. Perhaps you would like that?"

She waits for an answer and finally looks over Jeyne's clothing. It's the familiar, similar to what she had seen Robb's sister wearing, and what she herself had been given. She was told she'd looked like a fine lady, and that alone was enough reason for Eponine to wear them as often as she can.

"I certainly like the pink."