[Javert turns around and looks her full in the face. He studies her carefully as if seeing her for the first time, her ruined expression, the darkness in her eyes, the tears spilling down her cheeks. And he receives them all with a dire calm, his own regrets buried beneath a veneer of icy emotionlessness. A very small piece of him admires her ferocity, but that part is consumed wholly by his busy self-deprecations.
She is another that is stuck beneath Aunamee's bony thumb, isn't she.
Of course, a Pig. Oink, oink. He deserves no better a moniker. It is no coincidence that the pig statuette modeled after himself sits on a high-up shelf, staring, frozen, into a happy void.
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She is another that is stuck beneath Aunamee's bony thumb, isn't she.
Of course, a Pig. Oink, oink. He deserves no better a moniker. It is no coincidence that the pig statuette modeled after himself sits on a high-up shelf, staring, frozen, into a happy void.
Javert nods, stilted, never breaking his gaze.]
I am listening.