Supposing there was justice for all, after all? For every unheeded beggar, every harsh word, every neglected duty, every slight… every choice… Because that was the point, wasn’t it? You had to choose. You might be right, you might be wrong, but you had to choose, knowing that the rightness or wrongness might never be clear or even that you were deciding between two sorts of wrong, and there was no right anywhere. And always, always, you did it by yourself. You were the one there, on the edge, watching and listening. Never any tears, never any apology, never any regrets… You saved all that up in a way that could be used when needed.