(There's no getting out of the fact that it goes both ways. That if one can be forgiven then so must the other, and if one can't, then so can't the other; and that if he has his way, Mulcahy will bury what his own hands have done in his own grave.)

Once he's done chewing, "Alright," he says, softly. "... Alright. Yes, I see what you're saying."

He has no more left in him to argue it. "Thank you, Gaeta." And he does mean it.