Philip is presently deep in soup. And he can stand a lot of whiskey. The sjaljsdaksak;akda registers, because it was exactly what he was looking for.

...And he almost hates to admit it, because he finds himself torn again, between his curiosity and the silence that would be so much better for everyone involved.

"I'm sorry."

Philip sits down again (read: sacks into his chair limply) and looks up at Daniel, silently hoping he will join him at the table, but making no explicit motion to indicate the wish.

"I, um... me too."