Nineteen. Nineteen. Burr's impregnated a nineteen year old, held him accountable for the actions of a forty year old, years before. In what way did the reincarnated bear the maturity and age of the one who came before? Certainly Hamilton did not remember as a child what had happened. Was not a fifty year old at five. And he's not the same now as he was then, before. He's hardly an adult.

Burr feels ill, as he has since reading the letter. But he's so angry. If Hamilton is so different now, what right did he have to offer forgiveness for the other? How seperated are they? It's too much to work out, the tangle of guilt and responsibility and personhood. He would have been more than happy to ignore it.

"I intended to keep them," the promises, "but he wouldnt have me. It's been a damn mess, trying to convince him to give up his old profession and do something more befitting his intellect. You can imagine his feelings regarding marriage."

Ah, but something more pressing. Hosack is a doctor.

"Did you examine him?" Burr asks, suddenly finding his coffee very interesting.