[She had gone out to think when she saw the other girl standing in the field. After all, they were both sore thumbs. Wednesday all in black, and she nearly the same. So when she saw the girl suddenly collapse, she had gone over to her. And then, there was the reciting of Shakespeare. She listened, letting her continue.
When she heard the last part, having watched in silence all this time, she responded, quite calmly, purple eyes never leaving the other girl's pale, yet dark visage.]
Good my lord, How does your honor for this many a day?
no subject
When she heard the last part, having watched in silence all this time, she responded, quite calmly, purple eyes never leaving the other girl's pale, yet dark visage.]
Good my lord,
How does your honor for this many a day?