[He's quiet a little bit after that. Not just the absence of conversation; his eyes are quiet, thinking about that.]

All right, [he concedes.] We ought to throw a funeral for the loss of our sanity, collectively. But then we'd have to tell them all what I did-- and I do appreciate you didn't. [His voice is gentler now, considerably. He looks at her with something like rue, but of course-- it can't be.]