Palamedes is still having trouble reorienting his sense of scale in Darrow. The Library had been quite large, but space for collections was considered far more precious than space for people. As a result, living quarters were sparse. The study Palamedes had earned when he became Master Warden had been larger than his bedroom; his apartment here in Darrow is larger than both. For all he knows, the home Darlington describes could be as large as Canaan House, or as small as the sixth floor of Chelsea Cloisters.

Though he tries not to nakedly show his delight, Pal is clearly pleased by the offer. "I'd love to take a look," he says. "There's something I'd like to try once we're there, if you don't mind. Nothing invasive." He taps his finger on his chin and adds in a murmurs, "A house might make things a bit logistically complicated, but I'm sure I can sort it out-"

He's interrupted by the whistling tea kettle. "Tea first," he agrees, getting up. "Tell me about these ominously-named societies of yours."