With a smile and a slow shake of his head, Dale said, "I'll forgive you this time. I'm not sure how many more I could manage at the moment anyway unless we change source material."
Despite Ian's assurances not to pay her any mind, Dale would. He couldn't help it really. If he hadn't been concerned that it would come off as being completely unhinged--even Dale knew where some lines were--he would have brought a copy of Shakespeare to the girl. That impulse would be ignored, but he would probably be worrying over it for at least the rest of the day.
"The act of trying to make amends is, in and of itself, a very noble one. If someone isn't inclined to accept them, perhaps they're just not ready. It takes people quite a while to work through things sometimes." Dale thought of the spirit still sitting in the waiting room, of his father and the rest back home. Weren't they all still working through things. "Sometimes a great long while."
He looked from the tie wrapped hand back to the other man. "I don't know that a room will be necessary. I wasn't planning on staying any great length of time if it could be avoided. Some of the bodies will need tending."
Someone else might have taken offense, but Dale just smiled. "I suppose it's just the way I'm built. I'd have remembered you if I'd seen you before. Mostly I know the morgue attendants."