[ That is a surprisingly complex question, and while she keeps her head and body facing forward she casts a sideways look of her own back at Hilda. This is one of several reasons why she did not want to put herself in a position to answer introductory questions about the oddities of this place. ]

We all play the game to some extent. The House pushes us into it in one way or another. Manipulated feelings, sometimes intensely aphrodisiac food, doors or elevators that will not function until you satisfy a demand. While there are small rewards for playing along, the kind that can make life here easier and more comfortable, I am uncertain why anyone would expect someone who has taken us prisoner to part with us so easily. I think it likely that a great many of us will have to band together ourselves one day.

Until that day we do what we must.

[ She sounds grim about it. She is aware that if Hilda speaks to Sylvain he probably won't. They may have agreed to a truce but from the beginning Sylvain has not shared her urgency.

When they have the bartender's attention she asks for the red berry-topped drink with a tiny umbrella that the woman who ordered before them walked away with -- it looks delicious -- and gestures to Hilda. ]

Something sweet?