"Damn it, I do, so piss off with that look of yours. You don't need to threaten me, I know where I stand, and I've placed my lot on you," Greeves said.
"You're changing," Oliver pointed with a finger.
"Don't fuckin' start with that. The girls that have stuck around, they sometimes strike up with the same. I ain't changing, not for piss or shit. What, you think just because Loriel died, I've decided to try to make amends? Is that what you think? You'd be wrong – if you think that, then you ought to be thinking that I'm doing a piss poor job of it. What have I fixed? Eh? For all this effort, what the hell have I fixed?" Greeves said, his voice barely held back from a shout. A serving girl stuck her head around the door to see if something was the matter, but Oliver dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He didn't need anyone else to see the tears that were falling from Greeves' angry eyes. He didn't comment on it himself.
