"Incredibly."

He can see the precipice stretching out before them. And the fork in the road beside it.

The way she seems to understand, it makes him want to tell her more. To explain all the reasons that Gilbert was the only person left, even with the friends he'd made in London, nobody understood the same way, nobody could.

But if he's going to do that, he paradoxically doesn't want the Pledge in the way. Doesn't want her to have to pretend later, to suppress her reaction to him every day, whatever it is. He'd rather just know.

So he takes the other path.

"I hate living alone, always have. I don't think I've ever spent so long without someone else sharing space with me.

"Rowchester Abbey had a full complement of staff, so there was always someone around. In my twenties I kept a flat in London, I didn't have servants then, but friends would visit for weeks at a time, and if not my latest... Diversion would stay with me. Then I served in a very large house, and Gilbert since then."

The tapping slows as he talks, until finally with a decisive chink he stops altogether.

"I named a fish after him."