[The reasonable way all that's laid out, its reasonable tones, calms the shadow a little; his 'voice' loses its heat.]

How? You know as much about me as anyone living, I think. Tell me what you'll accept as truth and I'll give it; otherwise all I can tell you is that I don't know. Look at me. You can see I don't belong to this place. Isn't that enough reason to move this along, move me out from it? Even if I can't prove it to you, I've no reason to lie.