[Lefou's shirt is much the same way. It's no longer the pristine white that it was when he arrived, overall more of a blotchy, stained sort of ivory, like the shirt wears the stains that Lefou carries with him now.

He looks up at Ford, then lifts one hand to wipe the tears off of his reddened cheeks with the ruffle at the end of his sleeve.]

Don't be afraid to lean on me when you need it. I'm a lot sturdier than I look right now.

...I never thought there would be- hope that we would be able to actually... bring them back.