The more Demelza speaks, the more Greta can begrudgingly appreciate why people might be more inclined towards just calling everyone by their names and not by relationship-based descriptive titles. Being known by who she was married to had rankled on occasion - her childhood aspirations had tended towards much more fanciful things than 'someone's wife' - but even on her worst days, her title had still been a neutral thing, not something she actively despised.

It hadn't occurred to her that who you were bound to could be such a burden. She feels a bit foolish, and then a bit lucky, and then more than a bit bereft.

"There was never much of a rivalry between us and the neighboring Village," she muses as they step out of the elevator and head for Demelza's door, "though there easily could have been. It's where you went to buy things you knew no one in your Village was offering, but it's also where you went to sell things no one in your Village would be fool enough to buy off you. I think it broke about even, when all was said and done."