In answer, Javert stiffly pat-pats the shark. He refuses to scritch or rub him like a stray pup at his feet. It is too bizarre for his taste.

"You are quite fortunate he is, clever girl."

He puckers his lips like he's just sucked upon a sour lemon.

"Yet that brings us no closer to getting out of this cavern. Unless he is willing to show us the way out, like a gentleshark." He gives him another stiff, awkward pat. "We shall not stay here for-ever, lest the water bloats and wrinkles us to a sopping raisins down here. So. How much longer will you beg, then, Monsieur Shark, before you recognize a fellow shark might deliver your wants better?"