His husband is in his eager and fervent embrace, and if all is not right, certainly all is righter than it was.

"You meant only to be yourself," Hamilton tells him, "and not some pale shadow." His grip is trembling, though, and his smell has a strong overtone of anxiety, as he tries to reassure. And he clasps Laurens' hand, a look of the most profound gratitude -- guarding Burr personally, and during an attack, no less.

"It's time, then?" he asks. "I would," and he gives Burr a shy look, a tentative smile, "very much like to meet your daughter."

He assists in guiding Burr out of the house and across to the other.