Gabriel was uncomfortable when Father Brennan crouched down to his level. It offered him a closer, more intimate look, and Gabriel didn't want to be looked at. He felt tired.

He looked at the floor just in front of Brennan. "A... warning in advance would have been helpful," probably he would have skipped breakfast altogether, "but that is no excuse for losing my temper. I'll... make sure to guard my tongue better and..." And what? Be more charitable? Nourish a meeker spirit? He tried so hard, but it seemed the harder he tried, the more he lost his grip on himself. "and... be better," he concluded awkwardly. More shame and failure weighing down on him.