"Better to not know what to do, and have lost little, than to know how to cope and lost much," he mumbles, then looks up from his drink. "Unless you have a different set of values, of course."

He doesn't know why he feels concerned about telling her now that he has. She deserved to know the facts as he saw them. That's what scientists do, isn't it? Share facts. "Mm, perhaps." A moment of silence before, "How would you know it was him? If he did find you, could you tell the difference between an imposter and the real Caspar?"