Her brow furrows at that. One thousand sweeps? There's no way. She wants to call him a liar, or at least scold him for joking when she's trying to be serious... But it doesn't smell like a lie. It's in the way he says it, his hesitation, his body language. It reeks of reluctance, but also of uncomfortable truth. She holds her tongue on calling him a liar, and instead asks another question:

"How?"