[ the question — so this is your reward — earns him a snort, unladylike because rita is not and has never been a lady. she's a soldier. ] That's just war. [ rewards or fairness or justice, these things are all lofty ideas and wonderful, rita's sure, but war is all-encompassing and never fair.

so she doesn't ask if this is her reward or what she deserves. it just is. another war to fight, another day to face. that's all there is to it. at least the days aren't repeating themselves, at least she's not living the same day over and over and over again.

she doesn't think she could do that again, and she hates that she lost it all the same. ]

It's inhabitable. Some people say it's quaint, the villages. Not London, of course. London has Westminster Parliament and the Eye and a million other things. It's full of people.