'There is a castle made entirely of oranges and lemons,' says Courfeyrac, his gaze glued to the screen with the sort of focus one might associate with some momentous sporting event. 'Do you suppose people could live in it? For a few days, I don't see why not.'

Then it registers that his friend's attention is elsewhere - and there is a book he has never seen before, and some rather thoughtful expressions in evidence. Well! This must take precedence over fruit, so he carefully presses the button that makes everything go silent (how is that possible) and directs his sprawl in favour of the other two.

'Bahorel is mentioning what, to whom?'