I’m afraid I have to agree with the young lady. A pencil is still a pencil, regardless of its size.

[Palamedes rocks from foot to foot, struck by the uncharacteristic desire to pull Clarke and her friend into a tight hug. But he isn’t used to such displays of affection in the best of circumstances, and he can’t imagine that such a gesture would go over well here and now. Instead, finally, he returns the book to its plinth and sets the glass covering back in place.]

Well, this has been an absolutely fascinating diversion. [A pause, looking at each of them in turn.] Be well, children.