Grantaire lets out a puff of breath -- a cough, or a laugh -- and takes a gulp of his drink.

Things change for the better, this is inevitable: so say the philosophers; so says Enjolras; but look how they disprove it, every time! The world revolves, and the world returns. And Grantaire revolves and returns, too.

"Anything," he says. The bitter, laughing twist in his lip is back, and in his voice as well; the face reflects the soul. "Polish your boots."