"That would be a mercy, certainly." He's quiet again. To be honest, this isn't the revelation he'd expected -- he'd thought he might talk a little about Asmodean, and then be embarrassed by his own wallowing and move things back to Shen Yuan. Now he's left wondering what else about himself he might have borne like a curse that someone could lifted from him (not that he expects to get over the guilt of half a century of blaming himself for drinking all the time as quickly as all that, but it does give him something to grasp onto that he hadn't had before). That line of thinking is dangerous too -- the part of him that's quick to blame himself immediately turns to well, if you'd just asked someone earlier, you wouldn't be in so much trouble now, would you? so it's still your fault, just differently than you'd thought it was -- but he wrestles that back.

The point is that Shen Yuan isn't disgusted by him, hasn't grown bored with him. Shen Yuan wants to help him as much as he's wanted to help Shen Yuan. Sagramore has only done to him what he was doing to Laertes, holding him at arm's length rather than let himself be seen.

"Thou hast my thanks," he says finally, leaning over to refill his cup at last. "I'm sorry I told thee none of this. I was ashamed."