Benedict rolls onto his side to face Byerly with a penetrating, don't-bullshit-me sort of look, the cup of wine perched thoughtfully at his lips.

"It's a lot of effort," he remarks again, "and not that I know anything, but working very closely with someone in particular taught me that sometimes-- it sounds crazy, I know-- a person can just say what he's actually thinking."

With an air of challenge, "I love the gift. You were kind to think of me."