"Well, it's good news that time is largely irrelevant in most places, then," Rosalind says and waves off the concern. The comment about great personal or worldly strife is worth noting but the conga line is passing and time is, oddly, finite for her now. She gestures at the floating objects and a series of CRT monitors and various appliances.

"Are those familiar to you and if so, are they exceptionally advanced? Being from 2009?"

At some point she should introduce herself but questions and answers must be prioritized if she must depend on magic to keep him animate. If he suddenly collapses into a heap of pressed suit and bones, what will she do then? Clap and lie about believing in faeries?