[Deeply confused, Dorian frowns and starts—but if the poor boy is all right? Yet how he could be? He does need help. Dorian should get him to someone.

Except then the boy turns it back around on Dorian, and the redness comes back to his cheeks as he remembers his sin.] Yes, I know, I don't know. I mean, I know they shall be cross with me, and I don't know what I shall do about it. I haven't any idea who I might ask to fix it, nor have I any coin with which to pay them.