No, I shouldn't have -- Please, allow me. [Shards of glass crunch under his boots as he kneels to help her, carefully gathering the larger pieces into his cupped palm. He remembers the prisoners of Toulon bent over in a similar way, collecting the stones they'd been breaking into neat piles until their spines felt crooked and sweat had soaked through their uniforms. The thoughts rears, unbidden, and, growing more uncomfortable, Javert keeps his eyes firmly on his hands, avoiding her eyes lest she read his thoughts.] It wasn't my intention to inconvenience you.

I was - I was foolish. And ignorant. I apologise.