[ His eyes flickered up to Peter as he left, and then with a frown he gathered up his plate and his coffee and stepped after him. He wasn't planning to continue this conversation from the kitchen, after all. He set the cup down on the top of the television, then deftly balanced his plate in one hand while he started on it with the fork. His eyes never left Peter, but he was a few sticky mouthfuls in by the time he spoke again. ]

You don't feel anything but contempt for the way you were raised, do you?

[ He took another bite. ]

No, don't answer that. You think the whole world should pity you, that nobody understands how hard it was to grow up wanting for nothing but love. Was there anything about your childhood that you don't look back on with hatred, Peter?