Susan, for her part, finds the book she's selected to read to-day utterly unbearable. Oh, it's well-written, but the subject matter! Infuriating, unconscionable.

She loses track of time, fantasizing idly about how things might've gone if anyone in charge had any common sense, and then realizes she's on the verge of running late to lunch. Luckily, it's easy enough to find a draughts board - there's one in a cabinet in her favorite parlor - so she liberates it and wanders off to find Lancelot.

"Ah! Convenient," she says, when she realizes they've arrived at essentially the same time.