He doesn't know what causes Susan's shiver or the understanding glance Cuthbert sends her; all he can do for the moment is squeeze her hand as Reepicheep leaps nimbly from chair to tabletop so he can peer more closely at the gun, looking at it with interest. He is careful not to come too close or to touch it, instead linking his paws behind his back just as a man might to thoughtfully peer at a piece of art hanging on a wall.

"It seems a fine piece of worksmanship, Son of Adam," he says, "though unfamiliar to me. Is it Dwarf-forged?"