Dot begins an index for the button tin: shiny, useful, too peculiar to discard. It does not improve the search for the cardigan button. Her daughter suggests colour; Dot suggests tea. They compromise by separating the small buttons from the large ones. Later, Dot puts the unexplained amber button at the top. The paperback waits on the bedside table, still wrapped in its knitting pattern. Both collections are ready to be opened again, and neither has become entirely orderly.