I had a child, once. She was murdered about ten years ago. It was better to want them and not have them, then to have her and lose her like that.

[ The pain isn't any less than it was. It's different. Not the searing agony of the fresh wound but a dull, persistent throb that haunts his every move. Still. Something of a heavy conversation piece. He shakes himself out of it. ]

So we can assume they returned safely to their homes, I take it?