Javert knew well enough what he was and what he was not. Any personal flaw or shortcoming bothered him only if it proved disadvantageous to his work, the source of his pride.
He took satisfaction in fulfilling his duty to the best of his abilities,
seeking no honour beyond that of carrying out his tasks in a way that left him as close to irreproachable as any man could be.
If he was born outside of society, what of it? By now it should be clear to anyone where his allegiances lay.
He had no interest in being part of the more elevated spheres; they were not for the likes of him, and he would live as a beggar before he turned impostor.
And if his eyes never strayed towards the weaker sex, what of it? He had no need for a wife, nor a family; his loyalty, the sum of his very being, belonged to the police and his betters.
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