Well, before I go back to London, I HAVE to hear that, Mr Singer. And while that may have been truly sad, at least there were some utterly hysterical moments provided by my reactions. I really need to work on my poker face, don't I?
Nothing precious, plain to see, don't make a fuss over me. Not loud, not soft, but somewhere inbetween. Say sorry, just let it be the word you mean.