Alfred looked at Zelda briefly, then up at the ceiling. He thought it was rather obvious, but maybe it wasn't. That was the problem with letters — too many different ways to interpret the same set of words.

He was trying to think what to say in response. He needed something suitably innocent for Roslyn's ears, but would also leave no doubt in Zelda's mind exactly what he'd meant by that. It was the central issue of the matter, he thought; she couldn't understand what he was trying to get at unless she understood what he'd been trying to say in that letter. He had just opened his mouth to respond when Roslyn asked him a question, though — a related question, though she had no reason whatsoever to know that.

"Um — no," he admitted, cheeks flushing as he wondered what, if anything, Zelda might read into that. "No, I've got some — different plans for the summer."