Fortunately, he had anticipated his own weakness and prepared an explanatory message for the moment, in case he couldn’t find the words to speak. He’d written it on the front flyleaf of a Bible. It read: “I HAVE SINNED AGAINST THE LORD AND AGAINST YOU! WILL YOU FORGIVE ME?” Silently, he handed the Bible to Chikane, pulled a rag and bowl out of his briefcase, slid off the chair onto his knees, and bowed his head. Finally, stutteringly, he asked Chikane, “Frank, please, would you allow me to wash your feet?”Chikane sat back in his chair, and in his confusion, he laughed. “But why would you want to do that?”“I must humble myself before you,” Vlok murmured. “For what we did, for what we were trying to do.”Chikane’s grin vanished. “I can see you are really serious,” he said. He leaned forward in his chair, removed his shoes, and peeled off his black socks. With a quivering hand, Vlok took a glass of water off Chikane’s desk, poured it into the basin, sprinkled it onto Chikane’s naked toes, and dried them carefully with the rag. And then both men dissolved into tears.