Dear peddler. Don't make it such a gentle squeeze. And I don't always know. This took me a long time to think about, deciding if it was me, if it was them, if it was a combination. In the end, it's always some combination, but damn it, I can only stand what I can stand and I won't stands no more. I'm not terribly sorry for the loss. They're welcome back, but I don't count on it. They aren't the forgiving sort of folk.

And why so down sounding. You aren't leaving me, are you?