"Neither of us have done much to deserve a kind word from you," he said with a small, weak smile, lumping himself together with Lucille. "I never felt like I could leave, like there was anything for me in the world beyond Lucille and Allerdale. Those other women died because I could not bring myself to see what would happen to them - what I knew would happen. I didn't want it to happen any more."

Thomas poured himself another glass, because he was certain that, by the end of this, Greta would walk out and he would never see her or Saoirse again.

"Lucille killed me, and she was going to kill Edith, and I-- I couldn't let her. That's the last thing I remember. Lucille dead, and Edith alive. Then I was here, on a train."

He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt - enough to expose the scars from the stiletto knife on his chest - the true killing blows.