Susan wants to snap that 'Ponine doesn't understand what she's saying. That the smell of cordite and blood and smoke is still raw in her nostrils. That somewhere, Janet Hollis is crying over her husband, who was a good man who never did wrong, because of the cards chance played when Susan last faced off against a guardsman. She wants to say it's not spoiling, it's just that sick feeling in her stomach, that guilt that twists into something like anger.

What she says, instead, is "Fine. Fine, if it means all that much to 'ee, we'll do it." And she stands abruptly, tossing her head back, and holds out her hand to the other girl. "If we get summat out of it, we'll split half and half. If grief comes of it, guess we'll split that, too."