"Is that what they're calling it these days?" I ask, because nothing about Puck seems horrible at all these days. There was a time, that first day on the beach when I dove into the surf to deal with the capall that was going for her and Dove, that I thought unkindly of her. But that was my own horridness, and not hers.

"It's a good thing I don't listen to half of Skarmouth for their opinions." If I did, I would probably care a lot more, or a lot less, about some people I cared a lot less, or a lot more, about. But I rather like how much I care about the few people I care about.

The library has an oppressive silence, but I'll take that, and the cool, to be with Puck. It is rather nice, after all.