"But this is important," Joyce cut him off eagerly. "Can you? Talk to it, I mean?"
"Some," Four admitted.
"Have you asked it to let us go?"
"Yes."
"Well? What did it say?"
"He said he didn't want his friend to leave him."
At the word, Fweep rolled swiftly across the floor and bounced into Four's lap. It nestled against him lovingly and opened raspberry lips. "Fwiend," it said.
"Well, now," Grampa said maliciously, his eye on Joyce, "that's no problem. We can just leave Four here with Fweep."
In a voice filled with sanctimonious concern, Joyce said, "That's quite a sacrifice to ask, but—"
"Joyce!" Reba cried, horrified. "Grampa was joking, but you actually mean it. Four is only a baby and yet you'd let him—"