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Olaf mindlessly said the words, not sure if he was coming up with them on spot or if he had heard them before, as he read the news, unaware he was being watched by the very subject of it.
His oldest enemy was dead. Killed off in some distant place, with no witnesses, no known last words, nothing. He was just gone. A silent, boring exit. Olaf had somehow always thought he would be the one to end Lemony Snicket. It was only right: Lemony had been a pain in his ass since the two first met in their youth. Always with his long speeches, and his sense of morality, and his obvious crush for Beatrice, and lately his petty and unfairly bad reviews, together with his attempts to frustrate his plans. Olaf should have been the one to end him, it was only right. He would have made it a big occasion. Dramatic, as their relationship had always been. Something worthy of a first-page news, not a mere two lines obituary.
From his hiding place inside the closet, Lemony watched his worst enemy looking out at the window, a piece of newspaper in his hands. He wished Olaf would leave soon so he could exit and leave that tiny closet in that dreadful house. But, as it often happened, things didn't go as he wished, and the actor sat there, looking out at the window for a long time.
Lemony couldn't be sure of what he had in mind, but something in his face looked almost sad.