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“The entire world is going backwards,” said Aldo, throwing up his hands as he walked; “the Vatican looks progressive! Do you have any idea how bad things have to be for –” He cut himself off abruptly. “Of course you do.” He had the grace to look abashed at having attempted to lecture Vincent Benítez on world affairs.
Vincent Benítez considered this. “Do you want a hug?” he offered.
Aldo abruptly stopped pacing. “Maybe,” he allowed. “Don’t crease your mozzetta.” White showed creases horribly.
“I will crease it if I wish to,” said Vincent, in the Innocentius voice that permitted no disobedience, and hugged him. It was warm and human, and kind; Aldo appreciated it immensely.