“Don’t sound so surprised.” “I am. For someone so unsociable, the fact you have any friends is astounding.” “I have friends, here in Anderbury. You know them. Gav and Hoppo.” “They don’t count.” “Why?” “Because they’re not really friends. They’re just people you’ve known all your life.” “Isn’t that the definition of a friend?” “No, that’s the definition of parochial. People you feel obliged to hang around with out of habit and history rather than any real desire for their company.” She has a point. Sort of.
