"Why, I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

It was as if the world was flat, and had turned to be viewed edge-on. Polya couldn't see any reason why he shouldn't be having a friendly conversation with the scum of the earth.

The threat to reveal him to the very man he longed for deepened the surreality.

Polya found himself wondering about this wretched being. Like a compound that had, through some fatal flaw or grand mistake, devolved into less than its components.

"Is that how you survived?" he asked, curiosity floating across his features.