Bullock says he understands, and rises to leave. "Will you stay," she asks, at the last minute, "and will she be certain to know?" Instead of giving her an answer, he compliments her glow: "It becomes you," he says, and we all watch Mrs. Garret's heart break into a thousand pieces.

Cy is in Wolcott's room down the hall. "I guess my concern," Cy says, "is why you'd invite to come calling the man who nearly beat you to death?" Wolcott: "To know why he did it." Cy laughs, and says he can save him the visit. "Utter was dismayed you killed them whores," he says. He goes on to wonder if maybe Wolcott's true goal is to receive further abuse from Charlie. If that's the case, Cy says, he'll hire someone for that job, "because Utter's liable to kill you, and I don't need you dead." Wolcott tells ol' smarmypants to get out. Cy tells him he's tough to be a friend to. "You make a good point," Wolcott says. This sends Cy stomping out of the room, down the stairs, and past E.B. at the front desk, where the latter tries again to initiate the conversation about why he was left out of the important meeting. Cy yells at him again that he doesn't know, and pushes him aside, leaving E.B. standing there alone, humiliated. Behind him, we see Richardson emerge from his cave, and without even turning around, E.B. mutters viciously for him to "go back, go BACK." He could probably smell Richardson. I can practically smell him through my TV.

Al comes into his office to find Trixie there waiting for him. She's pissed off and says she's not going back to the hardware store. "They're fuckin' harpin' and badgerin'," she complains. "Who's harpin'?" Al asks. "The Jew?" Nice, Al. Trixie turns on him: "Are you makin' a fuckin' pun?" Al says he's askin' a fuckin' question. She says it's Sol and "fuckin' Bullock, also" who are getting on her about being erratic with her decimals. "So, harping now is a hardship on the same order of a boot on your fuckin' neck," Al says. "Do not fuckin' fault them, Trixie, for your own fuckin' fears of tumblin' to something new." Man. All of Al's rest and recuperation time has made him downright fatherly. I mean, as fatherly as you can be to a person you bought and have held in white slavery...you know what I'm saying.

"Meaning, you want me back there," Trixie says, resolute, "secreted, and listening in." Yes, he says, asking her to take particular attention to anything said about Hearst's geologist, Wolcott. "And mind your fuckin' decimals," he adds with a smirk as she leaves.