She's not unaware. "Where I'm from these days," she says, "doesn't have the same level of infestation as it sounds like you're dealing with."

"I was thinking in the broader sense. There's the sane world of order, and then there's all of the... everything else. And so much of it--not all, but so much--is intent on knocking down that fragile house of cards."

"And somebody has to stand in between. By choice, necessity, or calling. Is that not so?" She takes another sip.

(The cadence of the last sentence is not her own; it's old, and rhythmic, a lesson well-drilled in.)