Poor Barrow. So free of firm convictions and so burdened by the expectation that he have them. No, she guesses. Richard - or Silas, or whatever he's to be called - has very little to be worried about.

She taps the pipe on the table. It makes a sturdy clicking sound as she studies him, and is easily and thoughtlessly discarded.

"I'm retired," she says. "As much as is allowed with these things. Unless Yseult asks, of course."