Ha...? You reckon so? ( This, to the former part of the man's diatribe, in between more inhalations. The pipe is pleasant, encouraging. He enjoys the taste. ) Comes a point, nephew, when immortality's a joke. You think you don't want to die, but I'm telling you this. Once your body's starting to give, once the family's gone. Not much to live for.

( And so, the biding. The waiting. The constant, unimpressed destitution. )

Girlie's power's plain. When you know, you know. Smell it on her. Spoiled little brat, that one. Could've been a finer niece.