[ Most certainly Treavor is not racing home in a carriage! By no means had he slipped off early from the Boyles' the night before in order to face down his father. Nor did he wake before dawn, or slip out of the manor without - somehow! miraculously! - finding himself curtailed. Nor has he been tapping his foot nervously, posing admittedly asinine questions to Wallace, or feeling pleased with himself in spite of his nerves and a lingering hangover (not as wretched as it could be; he'd been careful last night).
Certainly none of these things can be true, and certainly he can't be heading home, because it isn't Tuesday, at all! ]
If you possess the secret to immortality, mijn vrouw, be so kind as to speak it in my ear, and I'll join you gladly.
Or have you granted me this gift already? Ah, I might have known! The sight of your smile is enough to grant an eternity's sustenance; you've spelt my fate already, haven't you? Magnanimous minx! I suppose I must consign myself to remaining infinite beside you. (Endless days, and three whole weeks beyond!) Ah, what ever shall I do?!
Make the best of it, I suppose. Learn a few new tricks every week. Hmm... And give my wife whatever she might ask, so that she never need tire of this world, or of the husband beside her forever. Do you know, Dearest? I believe I'm up to the challenge.
Nothing would please me better than to see to your satisfaction without end.
As to the matter of my would-be-flipping, I suppose the succinct answer is 'Because I'm feeling petty.' And I've seen more than enough of Deforest Scarlett's smirk to last a lifetime.
This entire convocation is pointless. Painfully, wretchedly pointless.
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Certainly none of these things can be true, and certainly he can't be heading home, because it isn't Tuesday, at all! ]
If you possess the secret to immortality, mijn vrouw, be so kind as to speak it in my ear, and I'll join you gladly.
Or have you granted me this gift already? Ah, I might have known! The sight of your smile is enough to grant an eternity's sustenance; you've spelt my fate already, haven't you? Magnanimous minx! I suppose I must consign myself to remaining infinite beside you. (Endless days, and three whole weeks beyond!) Ah, what ever shall I do?!
Make the best of it, I suppose. Learn a few new tricks every week. Hmm... And give my wife whatever she might ask, so that she never need tire of this world, or of the husband beside her forever. Do you know, Dearest? I believe I'm up to the challenge.
Nothing would please me better than to see to your satisfaction without end.
As to the matter of my would-be-flipping, I suppose the succinct answer is 'Because I'm feeling petty.' And I've seen more than enough of Deforest Scarlett's smirk to last a lifetime.
This entire convocation is pointless. Painfully, wretchedly pointless.