Combeferre notices that Enjolras has changed, albeit into nearly identical clothes.

Which makes sense, since Combeferre just got blood all over him. Combeferre feels vaguely sorry about that, but he wouldn't be at all surprised if laundry were not a problem here.

His own bloody clothes from the barricade are crumpled into a pile in his hands. "How does one dispose of these?"

Combeferre can't help returning Enjolras's smile as he asks the question.