Klein had been killing time in the Divination Club's meeting room, drinking dull black tea, when Angelica had retrieved him for the second time that afternoon.
"Mr. Moretti, there's another customer. Would you like the Topaz room again?"
"Please," he had nodded his thanks and gone to his usual spot with only a mild curiosity as to what he would be divining.
Then Clarice Falkner had walked in.
"It really is you!" She stayed near the door, delighted. "Are you surprised to see me?"
"Miss Falkner!" He almost stood up from the shock, the chair scraping against floor when his legs jerked. "I am very surprised to see you. Are you here for a divination?"
"Yes, I suppose I am!" She giggled as she settled her skirts and lowered herself onto the chair opposite him. She leaned across the table as if they were conspiring together. "Isn't this work hours? Should I keep this a secret?"
Klein's smile twitched. Well, you wouldn't find this so funny if I used my gun to buy your silence... Unfortunately the old joke of over-the-top violence did not settle as neatly in his mind now that he had actually killed a man, and he shifted in his seat as he decided how to act in front of her. Right, I want to maintain a mysterious reputation for my acting as a Seer, but that doesn't square well with someone I already know...
"I was lucky to have a free afternoon, although I would still appreciate the secrecy," he willed himself to look embarrassed. "I would not want people to mistake my new hobby for a career choice."
It would be hard to explain this sudden hobby to Melissa and Benson. And the membership fee! Just the thought of it is humiliating... Even this level of exposure is a little hard to stomach.
The lady giggled brightly . "Of course, I wouldn't want to discredit you."
He decided to take the initiative and steer the conversation. "Divination is a very recent interest for me. I recall from your letter this morning that you are looking for a new pastime. Are you also considering becoming a member of the Club?"
"Oh, no, no," Clarice shook her head daintily, straightening back up. "I saw the sign and was curious to see what it was like. Then I saw your name in the album and thought that if it was you then it would be most fun to surprise you."
Her eyes danced around the Topaz room, soaking in the details. "To be honest, it's nothing like what I expected."
Klein tried to relax despite the prickle of unease that was still running down his back from the shock. "Let me guess. You expected black robes and drapery?"
"Something like that. Really, I'm surprised by how comfortable this place looks. There's even a bed in here!" Clarice remarked, eyes still bright from a successful prank.
"That's for dream divinations," he explained kindly. "We can leave the door open if you would prefer, Miss Falkner?"
"That won't be necessary, but thank you for your concern." She settled herself into the chair opposite him. "You're a very considerate man, Klein."
Even Klein could not ignore a compliment that was so blatant (and unwarranted). Oh. Oh no, was Benson right?
She must have seen his surprise. She cleared her throat with a blush. "And, please, do call me Clarice."
"Alright... Miss Clarice. What would you like to divine today?"
"Oh, to be honest I did not plan this far ahead... You mentioned dream divination? What is that?"
"It's a more obscure form of divination," Klein admitted. "Dreams are made of symbols that the diviner can help you interpret. I'm sure you've seen similar notions, with dreams diaries and what-not."
"So if I gave you a dream diary you could help me interpret it?"
Please don't do that. Klein chuckled evasively. "I wouldn't claim to excel at that... After all, I'm just trying out the hobby."
"Of course, then what kind of divination would you recommend?"
"It's best to decide based on your question. If there's nothing in particular, then a three-card tarot reading is a good starting place." He smiled as he began to shuffle the tarot deck. "We can use the reduced twenty-two card deck, with just the Major Arcana."
It also had the added benefit of using very little spirituality. He was both exasperated and relieved that the meeting would not require any serious divination. His head still ached from dealing with the restless spirits for Sir Deweyville... Klein redirected his focus to the sensation of the cards passing through his hands before his heart could grow too heavy again.
"If that's your recommendation," she nodded amiably. "I think I've heard of them before. They're an invention of Emperor Roselle, aren't they?"
"...Yes, among many. Then, please focus your mind on the question of the past, the present and the future. Shuffle the deck with this question in mind." Klein placed the deck back on the table and pushed them towards her.
"Is it really a question?"
"Of course. What was your past? What is your present? And what will your future be? Interpretation of the tarot cards can offer insights and help bring clarity." Klein chuckled, unwilling to fully commit to the mysterious acting method in front of someone who knew him outside of work. "But ultimately it's just divination."
"Well, I shall focus very hard," her lips quirked as if they were sharing a joke and she began to shuffle the cards.
He took the opportunity to tap his glabella and look her over with his Spirit Vision. She seems healthy, there's no obvious hidden problems... He focused on parsing the emotions from the colours. The clearest shades here are red, orange, and white... Maybe I can interpret this combination as success in working towards a goal? The colours are very bright. That's good. It means the shock from Naya's death is no longer hanging over her...
"Done," she declared primly as she placed the deck back onto the table.
"Wonderfully done, Miss Clarice." He tapped again to deactivate his vision and reached out for the top card. "This represents your past."
He flipped the card, revealing the Magician. He hesitated, before choosing to speak in his normal voice. "It seems you are a resourceful young woman, Miss Clarice. Through your own determination, you have been creating new opportunities for yourself."
"I won't deny it," she laughed in delight. "For all my claims of leisure, I am still trying to find my place in the world.
"I've been building working relationships during my wanderings, and through the minor consultations for my father's trade business. Meanwhile, my mother's letters have been encouraging me to spend more time at the Cathedral to form new connections..." She tilted her face downwards, looking slightly abashed. "She's a devotee of the Goddess, you see. It's something of a family tradition."
"It is good advice. You cannot underestimate the bonds of community," he encouraged her warmly, not worrying over the slight hypocrisy of saying this as a habitual introvert who skipped mass and had yet to personally meet his neighbours. Eh... Melissa and Benson have it handled.
"You're quite right," she searched his face for a moment before her brows suddenly furrowed, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Oh, that reminds me... One of the priests mentioned a Mrs Moretti."
"Ah..." His lips twisted into a sad, uncomfortable smile. The Moretti family's parents were a topic he tried not to linger on. "My mother has been dead for quite some years now, and we have no other relatives in Tingen. She was a devotee, however, and we visited very often when I was young."
"That would line up with the priest's words. I'm sorry for bringing up a painful memory. It seems she is remembered warmly, although I'm afraid her first name escapes me. It sounded so familiar..."
A memory sprung up, and Klein shared it freely. "That's no surprise, my mother was named after the Saint --" His tongue stumbled, and he was suddenly unsure of himself, and terribly aware they were going far off-topic. I shouldn't be treating this like a casual chat! I can't let myself get caught in her flow of conversation... "Apologies, we should really be focusing on your divination. I'm giving you a poor show."
"I don't mind. What's next, then?"
"First, let's focus back on your question. This is divination, after all... The further we stray, the less helpful the symbols may be. We have glimpsed the past, and now, the present..." He attempted to invoke some of the gravitas of the divination room, waving his hand with a flourish as he pulled her focus back to the card on the table. Feeling only slightly like a charlatan, he flipped the card. "Temperance, reversed."
"Reversed?" She peered down at the image on the card, inching forward in her seat. "Is that bad?"
"It's just a symbol. Reversed, we could interpret it as your life being out of balance, and that you are looking for purpose. Heh, in this case, you can see the merits in not being familiar with the diviner..." Klein shook his head. "When you are struggling in a disharmonious situation, then exercising the moderation of Temperance may help you return to a balanced state. You may feel impatience, but remember that things take time to change."
"I see..." Clarice's voice trailed off in thought, before she spoke again with a distinctly teasing tone. "I shall trust that you're not basing these readings on the contents on my letter, Klein."
"Don't worry, I am taking this very seriously," he exchanged another smile with her, and reflected that the routine motions of the divination were helping him to relax, even if he was not slipping fully into character. "Are you ready for the next card?"
"Yes, please."
"Finally, the future," he flipped the card with a flourish.
"Judgement? This is all very ominous."
"Ah, but not reversed this time," Klein soothed, deciding to use his usual 'mysterious' tone for the finale. "Consider it not as a sign of judgement from others, but from within. You will have an opportunity to re-invent yourself and to find new purpose. When the time comes, proper self-reflection will allow you to blossom."
"Blossom..." She repeated the word in a dreamy tone.
"When all three are viewed in sequence, we can draw new conclusions... Try not to be impatient when seizing the new opportunities you have created. I dare say that you already have what you need, and through reflection you can align yourself to new goals.
"And that..." Klein's voice rose back to his usual cadence. "...is an example of a basic tarot reading. Was it to your liking, Miss Clarice?"
"Yes. You know, I feel as though I've seen a new side of you," Clarice's eyes re-focused on his face and she straightened herself back into a proper regal posture, having leaned in to examine the cards. She spoke quickly and earnestly. "I've been meaning to say, your new suit fits you very well. You seem wholly transformed."
Um... Thank you, but we've only talked twice... I think. Klein swallowed and busied his hands with tidying away the tarot cards. "That's very kind of you to say, Miss Clarice. There is some merit to the saying that 'the suit makes the man'."
"Yes. It is gratifying to see you have become a very fine gentleman."
Klein fumbled the cards, and had to quickly recover, neatening the messy pile back into a neat stack on the table. He could feel her gaze burning into the side of his face. Could she actually be the type of woman who enjoys teasing men?
"Welch always said you would be," she was using that soft voice again. "He was very proud of you."
"He did?" He looked up to meet her eyes, surprised at the sudden mention of their old friend. After his sudden fluster it felt like cold water on his head.
"Yes. Don't you remember?"
"I..." He scrambled through his memories when instant recall failed him. Excuse me, may I have a hint? "I don't believe he ever said such a thing in front of me. Of course, it's not common for gentlemen of the same age to exchange such compliments," he tried to divert the possible slip-up into a joke. She did not laugh, but continued to regard him steadily.
"Klein... I was planning to enjoy a meal out tonight once I finished exploring. Would you care to join me?"
It felt like a stone had dropped in his chest. This... Am I reading too much into this? He was surprised to feel a gut churning anxiety. Flattery isn't uncommon among the upper class, so this could still be a misunderstanding...
"I've already promised to cook tonight," Klein declined gently, with a shake of his head and his polite customer service smile firmly etched onto his face. "I hope you enjoyed your first divination. It would feel impolite to charge you after benefiting from your generosity, so please consider this a gift. My siblings appreciated the cake."
Don't sweat the numbers, and let's consider my debt repaid, alright...? There's no need for you to pay, so please leave quickly! It felt like there was an invisible timer, ticking down to a confrontation he was wholly unprepared for.
At first, Clarice's smile faltered, and her hand made an aborted motion forward as she struggled against some impulse. Then, a stiff smile reformed on her plain face as she rose from her seat. "I'm glad they enjoyed it. If that's how you feel, then I won't insist on paying. I can only be grateful for your time."
Klein held the door open for her. He blurted out, "I'll reply to your letter soon." I can't ghost her entirely - she knows where I live! If I use divination, then I should be able to avoid encountering her at the divination club... yes, at least until my potion is done digesting.
Her smile was dazzling.
Klein tipped his hat, and immediately retreated to the meeting room as Clarice returned to the reception hall. He wondered, with the fatigue of a soldier leaving a battlefield, what he should say to Benson.
After dinner, Klein had his chance to put his rehearsal into practice.
"Benson, about that letter..." he began, once the siblings were settling into their usual seats for the evening.
Benson put back down the newspaper that he was about to unfold and looked at him expectantly.
For the best advice, he should admit that he encountered Clarice Falkner again. However, he did not want his siblings to know about the Divination Club, and as far as they were concerned he had spent the full afternoon at work in the company's building.
From Clarice's perspective, it would be odd if he did not mention the Divination Club, but being a bit off-putting here could be a good thing...
"If you could help me decide on a topic, then I should be fine to write the rest myself."
Those were only concerns if he showed Benson the final letter - so he simply wouldn't share the draft with Benson at all.
"That's easy enough," Benson smiled obligingly. "I think I already have one in mind."
Melissa was still hunched at the dining table, but she had turned her head to watch them, ears perked. She jolted when he met her gaze and began to tinker furiously with the small collection of cogs and screws she had in front of her. "I'm working," she muttered. "It's not my fault that you're talking here."
"It would be a waste to turn on the other gas lights," Benson said as he gathered together a pen and paper. Klein, who had been planning to write the actual letter by gaslight in his room, felt a pang of conscience.
"Sorry, Melissa, it should be brief," Klein ruffled her hair and she huffed in outrage, jostling his hand away as he was already stepping out of her range. Just in case.
The two brothers gathered by the coffee table, and Klein had brought down the original letter from his desk for them to review.
Benson hadn't been lying when he'd claimed to have a topic in mind. He was straight to business. After establishing that Klein wanted the letter to have the tone of a friendly acquaintance, and not rushing to develop into anything more than that, the two had agreed they should keep it short. Certainly not more than one page if it could be helped.
"The stamp costs the same," Melissa had opined, but been overruled.
"Best to avoid discussion of finances," Benson said sternly, looking absurdly focused as he re-read the letter. "She asked about a great many things, but let's focus on just one. Your colleagues, I think, would be the best topic.
"After all, I have some experience in this area -"
"In writing letters?" Klein asked as Melissa blurted out, "Since when?"
"No respect," Benson clucked his tongue, but his expression was bright. "This isn't a skill limited to writing, you know. Both of you would benefit from being more social. Besides, haven't you heard me complain about my superiors often enough?"
"I'm not sure calling my colleagues curly-haired baboons would make for a good letter..."
"Are they?" Benson raised his brows. "Should we be commiserating?"
Klein's serious expression cracked and he barked a short laugh. "No, they have all been very nice. Mostly." He decided not to disparage Leonard.
"Then some light anecdote, or summary of how you're settling in should do fine... As for the rest, based on our conversation last night, I doubt you want to hear about her siblings?"
"I don't."
"Right. Then skip that, and reply to this last bit about fellow graduates," his brother jotted another note down and Klein reached out to extract the paper from him.
"Sounds like I have enough to work with. Thanks for your time, Benson," Klein dismissed him with a grateful smile.
"Oh. Already?" He seemed disappointed. "I was going to suggest you bring up something you're actually interested in, since she left you that opening about hobbies. If it's the end of the letter then she's more likely to prioritise it in her response."
"Yes, yes, this is enough to get me started," Klein shooed him away, disrupting the lecture with a wave of the arm. "Let me know if there's anything interesting in the paper." He waited until his brother had settled back into the single seater before he pulled out a second sheet and began to write the actual letter.
They sat in companionable silence, accompanied only by the ambient sounds of the rustling of paper and scratching pens.
"So..." Melissa finally spoke. "It's not a love letter?"
As he prepared for bed, Klein found himself considering his bedroom's cupboard.
It was being used for storage, and that storage included the original Klein Moretti's collection of journals.
He already knew that nothing had been written down in-depth about graduation, but perhaps...
He rummaged through the cupboard, seeking out the oldest of the journals. He flicked it open and began to skim read.
Much like the later journals, the entries were short and to the point. Despite being an avid journalist, the goal of the journals was clearly to record interesting developments and exercise academic thought. Things like his family and social life would be mentioned - a meal here, a special event there - but there was no detail.
He abandoned the effort half-way through the first journal, concluding that he was right to have not read through them before. He already remembered as much as he could, and it was down to the whims of recall or other reminders to pull those memories out of the scattered fragments.
Yes, I remember the important things, so there's no need to worry. Just put it out of mind... He sighed and turned out the light, settling himself into bed.
He would send the letter in the morning and have one less thing to worry about.
Klein was especially pleased with the final paragraph, where he had recommended reading a particularly dry text about the noble houses of the Fourth Epoch. Benson, if he knew, would consider it malicious compliance.
In a small way, Klein had been able to exercise his prowess as a keyboard warrior. I've ignored half her social cues, provided no interesting anecdotes, and talked about an incredibly niche subject most people would find dull... Heh heh. That should cool her off. Even if she... Uh. I shouldn't assume... Oh, whatever!
He buried his head under the pillow and willed himself to sleep.
Notes:Tuesday July 17
The entirety of Blackthorn Security Company had gathered for the evening meal, save for Frye who was on duty guarding Chanis Gate. Even the elusive Cesare Francis, who tended to stay away from the main building when he wasn't making a delivery, was present. The atmosphere was warm and cheery as they sat around one long table in Old Will's Restaurant.
Klein felt like death warmed over and was doing his best to enjoy the pleasant atmosphere. His stomach had shrivelled up from the strain of his first training session with teacher Gawain, and he could only watch potential delicacies pass him by, unable to even drool in anticipation.
The room was filled by the sounds of good company enjoying good food.
"Miss Seeka, I followed your advice and found a promising café only a few streets away. We're hoping to eat there next week," Kenley smiled brightly as he talked. "It has fresh flowers, so even if the food is bad, we can at least savour the environment."
"Let us know if it's worth the trip," Seeka said as she cut the bacon and asparagus on her plate into pieces.
"Certainly. That reminds me, Klein, how are things going with Miss Falkner?" Kenley turned to him, and Klein considered whether he could kick the shorter man and persuade him to drop the subject. No, no, he'd have to get past Leonard's legs first, and he was not close enough with either man for them to laugh off casual violence...
"Falkner?" Rozanne chirped, cutting her own conversation short as she pivoted to look at Klein, her eyes bright and alert. "Is this the rich lady who gave Klein an entire cake and he didn't even agree to meet her again?"
Dunn nodded in recognition and turned to Old Neil, staring at him expectantly.
"...How would I know who Miss Falkner is?" The older man retorted flatly. "You think I can hear you all the way from the Armoury? As far as I'm concerned, there was some tolerable lemon cake on Friday."
"Really, Captain, you shouldn't pretend to know things that you don't remember," Rozanne chided as her knife lay forgotten, still embedded in the roast mutton on her plate. "So you don't have any news for us, Klein?"
"News? No," Klein waved his hand with an awkward smile. "She really is just an old friend of Naya's that I met by chance, and she was surprisingly generous. That's all."
Mentioning that he encountered her at the Divination Club would only add more fuel to the fire. He'd prefer not to maintain his status as the latest bit of office gossip... or, rather, at least have gossip that was focused on more important matters.
This is the second time in as many days that my strategy has hinged on making someone bored. Perhaps I should diversify...
"You know, I actually ran into her the other day," Leonard said, watching Klein with undisguised mirth.
"You did?" A sudden idea sparked, where Leonard's good looks might lure her attentions away.
"Yes, she had dropped her handkerchief while walking down Zouteland Street, so I kindly returned it to her," he chuckled. "She was very surprised when I recognised her."
His hopes for Leonard to catch her eye died swiftly. Just as Klein had started to wonder if Clarice truly walked everywhere his mind was snapped into exasperation. Of course she was surprised, she doesn't know who you are!
"At first she was happy to ask me questions about Blackthorn - things like 'what sort of work do you do' and 'is it very dangerous for consultants', and so on - and yet, when I mentioned Klein by name she got very offended."
Offended? Just what did this guy say...
"What?" Leonard looked around the table of cold and suspicious stares. "Hey now, it was very civil until then! I was a perfect gentleman to her, and suddenly she was telling me it was, quote: 'improper to ask about a man and woman's private affairs'."
"Affairs!" Rozanne repeated with a scandalised squeak, eyes sparkling.
Klein took in Leonard's usual state of dress: untucked shirt, unbuttoned vest, and scruffy hair. Does this poet think that a handsome face is enough to be considered a gentleman? Seriously, Leonard, how did you get such a reaction...
Leonard brandished his fork to point at Klein as he rested his head lazily on his other hand. "So! Practice your etiquette. She's got a mean bite to her."
Klein stared back at him with tired eyes.
"Well," Seeka spoke softly, lips curved in an amused smile. "Good luck, Klein. If Kenley's anything to go by, we'll soon learn of any positive developments."
Kenley took the jab at his young love tendency of talking about his fiancée in good humour. "Yes, I am rather lucky. Still, Klein, I remember she asked for your address... Have you exchanged letters yet?"
Please, stop trying to share your particular variety of joy with me. I don't want it!
"Yes. It was..." Klein hesitated, immediately regretting that he had opted for the truth. "...Very long." He finished wearily and tried to convince his aching muscles not to slouch.
For a moment the table was stunned silent.
Then Captain Dunn shook his head solemnly, as if he'd seen something particularly sad.
Old Neil burst out into hearty laughter. "Good grief, lad! You make it sound like such an ordeal!"
"You did reply, right?" Kenley asked, brows furrowing slightly in concern and his smile pinched.
"Of course I did. It's polite," Klein said primly as he pushed mashed potatoes across his plate.
Rozanne giggled. "What did you send back? Please, please tell me you didn't just write 'Thank you for the very long letter.'" She lowered her voice in what was supposedly a mock impression of him.
"Really, you lot are as bad as my siblings..." Klein sighed, and readied his conversational trump card. "It was a normal reply, to a normal letter! Besides, I have too many things to focus on right now to make time for that sort of relationship, so these sorts of concerns are entirely theoretical."
Old Neil chortled again, wiping at his eyes. "Theoretical! Ah, to be so young that a lady's attention is an obstacle..."
Even Bredt joined in, looking at Klein with an amused but complex expression. "You're normally such a gentleman that I forget how men your age still have a lot of growing left to do. You know, I actually met my wife when I was younger than you are now."
"Oh, Bredt, I don't think you've told me how you met your wife before," Rozanne said as she resumed slicing into her food, and the conversation at the table moved along, splitting off naturally into different topics.
Leonard leaned towards Klein as he reached over to liberate more left-overs, and spoke in a low voice. "Do you really not like her?"
"Not especially," Klein murmured back. "No. She's... fine. It was just an awkward conversation, and a very dull letter."
"Huh," the poet paused. "So you don't want my advice?"
The arrival of dessert spared Klein the effort of mustering a civil reply.
Wednesday July 18
Klein's only plan for his rest day had been to visit his old mentor at Khoy University to request the monograph on the Hornacis main peak, but his muscle aches had made him wish he'd had the foresight to plan nothing.
Still, it had been worth the visit. What he had not anticipated was that he would be helped by Azik Eggers, rather than Professor Cohen, and that he would gain more revelations from his conversation with Mr Azik than the monograph.
The man had warned him of a 'disharmony' in his fate, and to be wary of the true cause of recent coincidences.
The latter warning has inspired Klein to use the mysterious world above the grey fog to divine on the recent incidents. He had been up there for quite some time, attempting to gain various revelations. So far he had confirmed a few important things: that his divinations were being interfered with below the grey fog, that there was a common Beyonder element linking the incidents, and that the true reason was linked to a house with a garden and dark red chimney.
Emboldened by how his powers of divination were clearly enhanced above the grey fog, he had gone on to confirm more things: that Sequence 8 of his pathway was indeed called Clown, and some clues to the Clown potion. As an unexpected bonus, Klein had witnessed the scene when Hanass Vincent and a second man had sold Welch the Antigonus family notebook.
New paths to investigate the remaining mysteries of the Antigonus family notebook case had suddenly opened up.
After calming himself, he had divined to confirm that Mr Azik, the trigger for this frenzy of divinations, was an amazing Beyonder with good intentions.
As he recounted what he had learned, tiring from the series of spirit dowsing and dream divinations he'd performed, a thought struck him. There was another coincidence he had not yet divined.
Klein hesitated for a moment before writing on the goatskin parchment: 'Meeting Clarice Falkner was due to Beyonder elements.' He heaved a sigh of relief when the pendulum rapidly spun counter-clockwise.
At least that is truly mundane... I wonder... Uh, no, that'd be way too silly... He stared at the topaz pendulum in his left hand, half-way through the motion of winding it back up his sleeve.
When Old Neil had first taught him the technique for pendulum dowsing he had given him an example: "is so-and-so willing to be my fiancée". The emotional nature of the statement had struck Klein at the time - this was not just a reflection of actions in reality, but an inference on a person's mind... Yes, he had already applied this theory when he had divined Mr Azik's intentions. Of course, divination was not a true revelation, and was always open to interpretation...
...Fuck it! This is about peace of mind! I don't want to be distracted by these sorts of school boy worries, I have important business to do.
He rushed to scrawl 'Clarice Falkner loves me' onto the conjured goatskin parchment and repeated the phrase seven times, face flushed. He stared resolutely at the end of the pendulum.
It wobbled back and forth, twisting oddly, until... Anti-clockwise! It's moving anti-clockwise! He stared in shock at the negative reaction. It was a slow spin, but still a negative.
This... is this worse than having confirmation... Klein rested his elbows on the table and rubbed at his face. He couldn't help but laugh at himself. Uh, maybe there's an issue divining with the term 'love'? But then the divination would have failed entirely...
He stared blankly at the red stars.
This is a good thing. Yes, I'm relieved! This... is a relief... That it's spinning so slowly might be a sign that there's potential. So long as I don't encourage it, then there should be no issue. Perhaps I can adjust the divination phrase to get more clarity...
Klein sat upright and banished the parchment with a swipe of his hand, face burning from embarrassment. No, I let all the teasing get to my head and now I've wasted time divining on it! How humiliating...
There was no point giving himself a spirituality headache over something like this. He resolved to stop thinking of it and focus his mind on the actually important task at hand: finding the man who had been with Hanass Vincent when they sold the notebook to Welch.
Notes: