[Pausing to drink her wine while Byerly speaks, Fifi watches him with quiet interest. She offers a commiserating nod as she sets her glass down, her posture unfaltering.]
Yet I love it still. My Jacques gave his life for it, and that... has to mean something.
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Yet I love it still. My Jacques gave his life for it, and that... has to mean something.
[Or everything is pointless.]