[Goodsir listens, fully expecting a more judgemental response. When it doesn't come, he's not sure how to react at first. So he just sits there, looking at Tim a while before he sighs and drops his gaze.]

I'm not sure. If what I did worked as intended, it would be a bad way to go.

I slit my wrists, once I was sure that the poison took hold. A final deception. I condemned them to a more painful end.

[Goodsir reaches for his tea and sips it before he dares look at Tim again.]

I believed us to be good men. I was so very wrong.

And even now, I don't regret it. I wish only it hadn't all been so pointless.