Dermod walked straight up to Harry Feversham, looking for once in a way what he was, a very old man, and stood there staring into Feversham's face with a muddled and bewildered expression.

Twice he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

In the end he turned to the table and lit his candle and Harry Feversham's.
Then he turned back toward Feversham, and rather quickly, so that Ethne took a step forward as if to get between them; but he did nothing more than stare at Feversham again and for a long time.

Finally, he took up his candle.
"Well--" he said, and stopped.

He snuffed the wick with the scissors and began again.