"We'll give you one," the boy promises, patting her foot. "We'll bury you in your nicest squirrel-kini, with most of the lice picked out. 'Here lies Oswin', we'll say, 'devoted friend, and squirrel-kini champion, who pulled the wagon until her cholera and dysentery exhausted her. Frankly, we're surprised she lasted this long.'"

He smiles, leaning his back against the couch. "Erna has exhaustion. Ah, well, yes. Of course she does. She's working all the time," he says. And then, a little later, "Clara broke her arm. Well, yes. Though those hurt. I hope she'll be okay. Erna broke her arm. ... Okay, that's just ridiculous."