“What did she say about me!” the man said, outraged. “That’s not her business. She doesn’t own me, the master gave me charge over her.”

Rigg felt Ram Odin’s touch on his forearm. So instead of answering, he smiled and turned to Ram.

“My friend,” said Ram Odin, “do you think that Wallman Rigg came here without first inquiring of the Lord of Walls whether he had any concerns?”

The man settled down at once. “She only has a right to complain about how I treat her,” he muttered.

“Do you think Wallman Rigg doesn’t know that?” asked Ram Odin. “He knows what he knows—that slave only complained about your rudeness.”

“You’re not a hardworking man,” said Rigg. “You walk through the factory in the morning when you arrive—but work has already been going on for some time. If anyone tries to ask you anything or tell you anything, you brush them aside. Too busy for their problems, is that it?”

“They should do their work and not bother me with endless nothing.”

“But the slave who complained—she insisted, didn’t she? She came to your door and knocked.”

“My door is always unlocked.”

“But your rudeness is the same as a lock—designed to teach people to leave you alone. She complained that the equipment kept breaking, and some of it couldn’t be repaired. Three spinners are idle all the time, because their wheels don’t work.”

“Then they should call for the repairman!”

“He doesn’t answer to them, though, does he? When they send for him, he doesn’t come, because it isn’t you sending for him.”

The man opened his mouth to say something, then looked furtively away. He had been about to lie. “I didn’t realize it was so serious. You’re right, I should have summoned the repairman myself.”

“There are a lot of things you should have done yourself,” said Rigg. “What do you do, alone in your office, since you aren’t doing any of your work for the factory?”

The overseer seemed as if he wanted to protest, but again, he shied away from a quibbling lie. “I sleep,” he said.

“I know,” said Rigg. “Why don’t you sleep at home?”

The man leaned his elbows on the table, put his head in his hands, and began to weep.

“You walk up and down in your rooms. Your children are asleep—why aren’t you?”

The man finally mastered himself enough to speak. “She’s a good woman, my wife. My master chose very well for me.”

“I’m sure he did,” said Rigg. “Yet something keeps you from sleeping.”

The overseer leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes and rocking his head back as if he were looking for something on the ceiling. “She snores,” he said at last.