The Shadow, too, notices the pale-knuckled grip of his hands. He forces them to relax very deliberately and flexes them both. His knuckles pop and crack quietly. "...You can't..." The wording of that is quite careful, because The Shadow himself is quite sure of the acts his alternate showed him, and the truth of those images. Her attempt at consolation does little for him, but he has enough self-control to conceal his distress, for the most part.

"Perhaps not Farrow, then, but you could seek his advice at least. You know I'd notice the difference. I wouldn't let that happen to you."