"...yeah." He laughs, though it's a pathetic attempt at humor where none really exists. "Yeah, I kinda do. Guilt and, uh...etcetera."

One hand goes to the back of his neck in an inadvertent, self-conscious gesture. Then he glances at the door to the office, abruptly nervous.

"You're not - you won't tell your intern about this, yeah? He kinda hates my guts enough as it is. Don't think I want him to know what I've...done, exactly."