"And to do that?" Roland leans back a little, feeling the soft wall of the pile shift behind him, and stares toward the ceiling. His gaze is absent, focusing less on what he's seeing and more on the memories of the conversation so far, trying to find his way near the heart of the problem. "Let's see. Signless, you've said being a murderer makes you believe yourself a hypocrite. I've spoken on that about as well as I can think to and your opinion hasn't changed. You've said you're searching for some way to make the killing okay - that no one can give you, because it doesn't exist."

"As I see it," he continues in a tone just as casual and matter-of-fact as the tone of the rest, still staring absently upward, "the problem is that you can't accept what you've done. Doing so would be to accept that you can no longer believe the way you do, for a man who's done the one can never again do the other. Have I got it right so far?"