As you look back you think: So love did do him in after all.

As you look back you think: So love did do him in after all.

[Discard thought.]

I was right...

If it weren't for her he would not have been there. The shot would not have connected with his soft palate...

How do I... know all this then?

Who knows?... It's getting cold out. You should go.

"Was it? Real?"

"I don't know..." She looks down at the yard -- then back into her coffee.

There's a nod, the smallest of nods.

Real as anything.

I already miss Klaasje.

Of course you do, Harry. Everyone does.

Gone forever... Sire, thee shall never findeth another mistress quaint like her!

You fool! What are you waiting for?! Mount a rescue operation and go get her back!

What is communism in this?

You do not know. A wind of needles. Airships flutter in the stratosphere.

(Turn to Klaasje.) "Looks like love did him in after all."

She's silent, holding on to her coffee mug. No vapour rises from it -- it's cold.

It appears this one has not been entirely corrupted... this may help. This may help the others see.

Remember this silence. The lady is dangerous. People suffer around her.

[Finish thought.]

Say nothing. Let her answer.

"Yeah..." she finally breaks the silence. "I'd like to think he didn't love me. Or that it was chemically-induced and not real."

"Why?"

"Easier that way." She takes a sip.

It killed him... (Look at Klaasje.)

No. Communism killed him, remember? Love made it possible. You know this much.

Or was it communism that killed him and love that did him in...

I did the right thing. I know I did.

Feels good, doesn't it? Doing the right thing.

Hey, what is this funeral vibe here? You did what any good cop would do. Pat yourself on the back and move on.

You were just being a good cop.

If it weren't for her he would not have been there. The shot would not have connected with his soft palate...