[Gordon picks up the pace a bit, perhaps trying to outpace the voices.]
My wife.
[The next blind corner leads to the image of a rooftop in Union, a man recognizable as a younger James Gordon, his hair still red, is smoking a cigarette in the company of a rather pretty blonde woman, who speaks with the second feminine voice, not that of his wife as she turns to him.]
You're driven. That's one of the things I like about you, Jim. It's admirable.
[The pair step closer together, and the older, real James Gordon heads for the roof access door, trying to get through the door before what he knows is coming. He gets the door open just as limbs entwine and the figures embrace.]
no subject
My wife.
[The next blind corner leads to the image of a rooftop in Union, a man recognizable as a younger James Gordon, his hair still red, is smoking a cigarette in the company of a rather pretty blonde woman, who speaks with the second feminine voice, not that of his wife as she turns to him.]
You're driven. That's one of the things I like about you, Jim. It's admirable.
[The pair step closer together, and the older, real James Gordon heads for the roof access door, trying to get through the door before what he knows is coming. He gets the door open just as limbs entwine and the figures embrace.]