[He pauses for just a moment of thought, dramatically bringing a finger to his chin, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. She does have a lovely voice that comes even more alive when she recites those poems. It's easy to guess that she would not pick things too close to her heart, though. No, those are reserved for people she likes.
Her precious faeries, he imagines.]
Yes. You will read it to me, and to the boy. Tonight, after dinner.
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Shall I read you poetry then?
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Her precious faeries, he imagines.]
Yes. You will read it to me, and to the boy. Tonight, after dinner.
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And then she turns on heel and leaves the room. ]