Gibson surveys the evidence of his recreational activities as he readies himself to serve.

Hence the great darkness of philosophers who have looked for a complete building in a ruin.
 
Marty Hart accidentally acquires the valuable philosophical insights of Rust Cohle, boy detective.

Connie makes her bones, almost.

And he shall cleanse the house with the blood of the bird, and with the running water, and with the living bird, and with the cedar wood, and with the hyssop, and with the scarlet:
But he shall let go the living bird out of the city into the open fields, and make an atonement for the house: and it shall be clean.

Peter gives Phil a bath.

There's rules that go with being Adam's errand boy -- sort of workplace regulations. Be there whenever he needs you, don't mess with his stuff, don't ask annoying questions.

There in that white-gilt bedroom like a tomb, where I believe none of Gatsby's guests had ever before set foot except by mistake — none until Daisy, and I was only her adjunct and proxy, an accessory to her presence there in the house. He had forgotten about me then. He had forgotten about me now. I was his only witness.

In Egypt, the emperor sleeps poorly.

Fowler and Bennett lock horns, again.

“We raised a child together,” Jiang Wanyin says, voice thick with pain. “You two were sworn brothers.” He swallows hard and oh. Oh, no. Lan Xichen is not ready for this conversation. He is never going to be ready for this conversation. “And because of what he did, there is nowhere outside this room that either of us can mourn him.”

Lan Xichen has been in seclusion for half a year, healing, he thinks, from the way his world was upended that night in a temple in Yunping…

“Now, I know you don’t like it when I lie to you, Marty, and as I’ve been thinking it occurs to me I’ve said some shit that wasn’t exactly true.”

Aaron Stampler gets a visit.