Just then, there's a hammering on the front door and a desperate scream for help. The door opens and Jocasta spills inside, weeping and ragged on all fours. Octavia runs to her friend and asks what happened. Jocasta laments, "Men came in the night! All my family is dead! They killed them, and took me away! They have dishonored me!" Me, me, me. And how are you, Octavia? How does this day find you? Selfish girl. Octavia assures Jocasta that they'll keep her safe now. Julii Cooper readily agrees, and then makes a hilarious oopsie-face. It was inevitable that her uncharacteristically lengthy run of non-self-destructive manipulations would come to an end, I suppose.
At night, in his room, Pullo opens his old army foot locker. He takes out his old, dented helmet and starts to polish it while sitting on the edge of the bed. Eirene comes in and sits down on the other side of the bed so their backs are to each other in a not-at-all-symbolic way. "Whole place stinks of fish, don't it?" Pullo remarks. Eirene doesn't mind; it reminds her of home. Pullo didn't know she was from Seattle. Eirene says that they lived near a big, deep lake with lots of fish. "What is the helmet for?" she asks without missing a beat. "Nothing," Pullo says. What's he gong to say, the chamber pot's on the blink? He says that he was just thinking about old days, and chuckles that of course he's not leaving with the soldiers today. Although he does admit that he thought about it. As Eirene sits there silently, waiting to be left again, Pullo mentions that he'd probably have a higher rank now, meaning more respect and money for both of them. "Probably buy a lake," he says. When he adds that it would be a short campaign, however, Eirene starts crying. Pissed off, Pullo throws his helmet back in his foot locker and curses, "I was only talking. No call for blubbery." He never gets to have any fun. Eirene drops her bomb: "I'm preglant." Pullo gets up from the bed and walks around to face her, making sure he heard her right. Which he did: she just said it wrong. "Whatever you call it," she sobs, and flops down on the bed. Pullo just stands there next to her, hands on his hips and chuckling in amazement. I hope he'll be a little more supportive than this as her preglancy progresses.