"If a drink's going to burn that much going down, why not have it taste like dessert, too?" Look, Éponine thought this was a perfectly reasonable thing to expect of alcohol. "I might have to ask you where you found it, or I'll be tempted to steal the whole bottle."

She waved her mustache-stick at him. "Good evening, Monsieur Mike. Thanks for having us. Why the mustaches? I like them, d'you know, but what gave you the idea?"