Of course I will. [It is beginning to dawn on him, in horror, that Guy thinks he's not real. A guardian angel? Eight years for their bitter parting to fester some awful guilt? He shakes Guy slightly, turning him back to look at him.] Guy, it's me. It's Julian. I'm here, and I'm not dead anymore. I-I mean I know I died back home, but I'm here now.

[Is he really saying these things? Reading about it is strange enough, but at least it can float on the surface of consciousness, taken for granted. When something is spoken, it must be believed in order not to sound wooden, and Julian's words sound wooden in his ears.]

Guy. Look at me. [He tries a gesture that got the man's attention last time, cupping his face in his hands.] Feel. I'm here.