Well, I’d walk you out, but it’ll take me a month or so out of my way—” “A month?” Esther gasped. “We can’t have been gone a month—” “Hush, child, nor have you. You’re small—your names and lives sit lightly on you, and you can trip in and out of all manner of places whether you’re careful or carefree. I’m on a different path, and differently burdened, and have an appointment to keep; the mill is anxious to receive me, and its heart would break if I bent my feet away from it now.
