Although not to hold back any tears, of course, Enjolras blinked, too, as the girl dragged herself, not quite invited, into his room. By whom? he wanted to ask, because he doubted it would have been by his landlords or anyone else this child might have met on the way in. Less than finding him unpleasant, he doubted they knew him well enough to say, for as little time as he spent, nowadays, at home. If this young wretch was looking for an honorable man, who paid his rent on time, however, then, they would certainly be qualified to send her his way.

But the girl shook and bled and specifically begged for his help, whether he could give it to her or not, and, taking in her present state, it would be inhuman of him to turn her away.

As he did not wish to be responsible for her death, he moved away from her to sweep the chair away from his writing desk and offer it to her. "Please, sit before you fall," he said, holding out his hand in case she needed the support. "What is it that you wish me to do for you?"