"No," Susan agrees with a little sigh. "But it would be rather satisfying to hold them accountable." Perhaps she might learn how to fly a biplane, and then transport herself and the biplane to Camelot, and affix a sign to the back that reads LANCELOT DESERVED BETTER THAN YOU, and fly it overhead. They don't know of planes; it might be received as some dread portent.

She reaches out impulsively, then, to take Laertes's hand in her own and give it a quick squeeze. Just as quickly, she releases it. "I'm glad we're in accord." A pause while she wets her lips. "I love him." And lest Laertes not recognize the magnitude of the words, she adds, with no small measure of wonder, "I've never loved a man before."