Harry, Sal, and Ken sit in the empty break room, smoking. 

SAL: I bet it was a woman. 

HARRY: No.

KEN: You really think…

SAL: Look, the last thing I want to do is tarnish the man’s name…any further than hanging himself already can…

HARRY: But…?

SAL: Men like Don and Roger, and the rest of us, for that matter, can’t behave with our wives a train ride away. Can you imagine if they were in another country half the year?

KEN: And you think, what, Rebecca found out?

SAL: I’m sorry I brought it up. Anyone who gives Pete Campbell a black eye deserves better than our posthumous criticism.

Harry and Sal walk down the street.

SAL: I just don’t understand what’s so important that I had to cancel my-

HARRY: You’ll know very shortly.

Harry wrangles Sal through the doors of a diner.

SAL: Okay, Agatha Christie, enough with the-

Paul, in full Krishna garb, steps off his stool and smiles at Sal.

PAUL: Hare Krishna, Salvatore.

Sal’s eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. He takes a moment to breathe.

SAL: Please, God, tell me it’s chemotherapy.

Harry lights Sal’s cigarette. 

SAL: She died?

HARRY: With Fillmore Auto Parts in the conference room.

SAL: So while Ken’s in there killing a strategy, God’s out here killing a secretary.