I've done terrible things when I wasn't in my right mind. I was afraid I'd treated you badly last night.
I lashed out, but I'm only angry with myself.
I think very highly of you. Very highly. How could I not? You are...beautiful and innocent and sweet.
I don't like seeing you crawling on floors as if you were an animal or a fucking slave. Leave the bloody
glass where it is---I don't care. Do you remember the self-deprecating words you said to me when
I took you home after The Vestibule? Those words have haunted me. So have mercy on me and stop
denigrating yourself. I can't take it.