Oh, no, mademoiselle, though-- [He sighs the sigh of a fond parent.] I fear that day will come soon. My workroom is mostly hers as of late. I do not begrudge her its use, I am happy to have it to provide to her. I think often and keenly of your thoughts on accommodations for her. Of course I still desire to find some way to observe her habits without fully imprisoning her. Already I fear she has grown too used to me and a life in the Gallows to ever return to her home. If there were some way to simulate such a habitat...

[All at once Val stops writing and sets down the pencil. A faint dusting of charcoal leaves the lightest of stains on his fingers.]

Have I really neglected to introduce you to her? I thought that I had. Perhaps I only thought so hard of doing so that I invented having done it already. I will be sure to correct that immediately. I think you will like her very much. She is a fascinating creature. And--

[He is about to pick up the pencil again and return to the page, when a thought strikes him like lightning. Shocked by his own genius, he drops the pencil.]

Mademoiselle! I have thought of something that will solve all of our problems. What if Veronique, and not a dog at all!