The Socialite took one of the chocolates and considered it. "You have a way with words yourself, Professor. However, if there were any way I could aid your project directly, help you to solve the riddle of light and language, I would do so in a heartbeat." His voice was soft, gentle, patient, a breathy quality that spoke to an empty and wanting chest without the strength to support the structure. He ate the chocolate, savoring the creamy sweet on his tongue, as if that might fill the hole behind his ribs. What else had they done to try and fill such an ache?