He nuzzles Joly's shoulder silently for a little while. "No, well, you're right," he says at last. "I've never managed to say what I wanted to say, writing notes to Musichetta; never said anything useful. --Yes, I think we all did manage better, with daemons It--I remember--"

No, it's gone now. Lesgle thunks his forehead lightly on Joly's shoulder before sitting up. "Right, well. What else does this computer do?"