"Then they should learn to have better conversations themselves," Veronica says, heading for the orchard. It's usually quiet there, at least, except for the occasional gardener, who are easier to avoid than a roomful of people. She glances at him once they're safe, walking in the shade of the trees. "You don't have to. Wait. I mean, for one thing, if we — if we're going to share a house, a bed? It's kind of ridiculous. This isn't a Jane Austen novel. And for another, I... I don't think I want to wait."