But taking up space in the same railyard? The fiery performances? The idea of something dying, and then something new rising to take its place? “From the ashes.”

[He should probably hold onto pretense that this is a casual, friendly chat. But Stephen feels a vague unease — the rhetoric of “my dear boy” only adds to it, as though he’s drenched in the uncanny.]

What I’m getting at is that there seems to be a connection between now and then. I’m not wholly sure the pretense of bringing joy is—[a thin grin.] —completely accurate, impressive performances notwithstanding.