One of the things Pal likes best about Marianne is her comfort moving between the serious and philosophical and the frivolous and everyday. Intellectually, he knows that some people see a stricter divide between the two, but he has never been very good at keeping them separate. As with all the people he holds most dear, he feels no awkwardness in shifting their conversation from the silliness of tasting notes to the existential threats of overconsumption.

“It also feels different to be denied something than it does to never have it,” Pal muses. “Resources were more limited in the Library, but no one suffered from want, either emotionally or physically. But here, people would experience the same kind of limits as a devastating loss.”

Ironically—or perhaps appropriately—the server chooses that moment to appear at their table and ask them if they would like something to drink. “I think we’re having two glasses of champagne.” He smiles at Marianne. “Have I got that right?”