"Yes... their daughter, Eponine. She was 18, she died with us on the barricade. She was so determined to fight with us that she had disguised herself as a boy, about as well as I am hiding my true identity right now," he smiled fondly at the memory. They'd seen through it in seconds.
"Their son, Gavroche. He was... I don't know, I think you would say a 'street child'?" he tried to explain, unsure if the concept existed outwith his world. He drew her attention to a small group of young boys who were unsupervised, and dashed between the crowd as if they were on a mission.
"He was better off on the street than at home with their abuse," he explained. "We... well, not me particularly, I am not very paternal, but my friends looked out for him, and he looked out for us in turn. The military shot him in the street for helping us."