"I still can't believe you said that."
"Let's put this all into perspective, shall we?" remarked Fawcey, before he sat down on the great red chair that he had inherited from his father. The scattered light of the gaudy chandelier above his head gave him an awkward, broken halo. "My brother, whom you know well, is a drunken swine whose sole intention is to sully the family name. Of course I was going to let him have it."