With such a simple response, Enjolras assumed they were through. Grantaire was not a man of few words, so perhaps he thought himself defeated in this and he would excuse himself. In the brief silence that followed, he turned to the task of gathering his things so he could leave. The matter should be settled. But then Grantaire spoke again. As he closed his book, his fingers tightened on the cover. It was a low shot, taking aim at his beliefs. He thought even this man better than that, better than lashing out at that which he himself lacked. Pity or not, he did not see it as pleading but rather mockery.

Stern as ever, Enjolras lifted his hand. He pressed the book back down against the table, resisting the urge to slam it down to properly emphasize his mood and the point he was about to make. He took a slow breath, gathering his words, ensuring the drunkard had truly paused for a response rather than merely for breath.

"Redemption," he said, slowly, fiercely. "Is something any man can seize, any day his heart desires it. Lest he is held physically, by chains or bars, every day redemption is possible. It is not something for which permission is granted. If permission were a prerequisite to redemption, no man would have it." But that was as far as deflection could go. He must address the issue directly, for fear the man before him would think it did not apply to him. His hands curled into fists as he drew up his next words. "This was no first chance, nor was it your second, or your third. Each time we meet, each and every day we are together, has been a chance. It is not action alone, it is not the task itself. We are here to enact change, we are here to show that any man can do right by his fellow man, by his country, no matter his status. We each bring a unique perspective, our own experiences, as fuel for this fire. Yet what you bring threatens to douse those flames. No chances I offer you will change that, it is a chance you must find yourself."