The existence of kindness in others doesn't make it any less precious, love.

[ He sticks his hands in his pockets. (Nice to know that he's not the only one who sees it in Vergilius, by the way. He's keeping that little nugget for himself.)

Midnight's eyes slide over to Miss Gebura, then away. ]

What else do I do, then? I'm the sort of person whose jealousy kills. Perhaps I look for examples of nobility because I lack it in myself.