Somehow, I don’t think that sounds particularly appropriate, even if it would be most heartfelt. Patience patience patience, I tell myself.
Typhon looks at me oddly, “You look somewhat disturbed.”
“I do?” I ask.
"Forgive me,” He says immediately. “It is just that you looked so serious.”
“I was thinking about my cousin,” I blurt out, thinking that I sound extensively foolish.
"Your cousin?”
I nod vaguely, “Her name is Patience.”
“I see.” He looks into my eyes.
I am afraid he really does.
The corners of his mouth quivers, “She must be quite a role model for you.”
“Not at all. Patience is quite a harridan,” I lie. Actually, Patience Merriwether is an irritating combination of reserve, piety, and decorum. I have never met her in person, but her letters are alwa
