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He is leaning on his elbows in the TGV bar car, a just whistled espresso, midnight blue suit and tie. Exchange glances with a man who stares at him insistently, his eyes narrowed, questioning. He lets out a “I don’t remember…” “Christian Jacob, Les Républicains!” draws out the costume, laughing. No more luck on arrival at Belfort station, where an employee will watch him pass from afar, letting out a shy “Christian Estrosi? »