“How am I to dress up in my finery, and go off and away to smart parties, after the sorrow I have seen today?”

“She is…” Death turned her head, considering. “She is like a party dress I wear when I want to impress visiting dignitaries. Like your friend Betsy, I too am a Terrible Engine. I too have occasional need of awe. But between us, I think, there is no need of finery.”

“Is there no easy way to taking this dress off you? Am I going to have to rip it off?”

“A going-away party. We dress things up with pretty words. My friend is not going on a pleasure jaunt, or a holiday upriver to see the ruling city of MallenIve. They are selling her off to some nameless man with arable land. They are selling her for caskets of wine.”

“When I am upstairs in my little garret I have only to remember and imagine the rustle of your dress, and I am ready to bite off my hands.”

“I am not afraid of tomorrowfor I have seen yesterdayand I love today”