Most days, when rehearsals for Cyrano's play aren't keeping him busy, Titus is out riding the trails in the garden or the more-traveled ones in the woods, but on especially warm days, he retreats to the coolness of the library where he's been curling up with the stack of books that the Doctor helped him to find, or with a few odd books of poetry he
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"Hello," she manages to say softly, waving at him--she doesn't want to interrupt, but she's curious about him.
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She sees Titus there, and curious, heads towards him.
"What are you reading?" she asks.
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And she's going to wander nearby with a book of her own, a romance novel of sorts, and will be reading quietly.
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"Oui?"
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L will be wandering about, and he'll poke his head over Titus' shoulder to read what he's reading.
Because he can.
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The text under his thumb reads:
Out of the chaos of my doubt
And the chaos of my art
I turn to you inevitably
As the needle to the pole
Turns . . . as the cold brain to the soul
Turns in its uncertainty;
So I turn and long for you;
So I long for you, and turn
To the love that through my chaos
Burns a truth,
And lights my path.
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"Ah. Why are you reading poetry?"
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"I suppose that I enjoy the metaphors and the use of rhyme, but I also suppose it is simply because I enjoy it," he says, puzzled at this question.
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Still, it's a nice day and while Billy's not much of a sun bather, it's too nice of a day to waste inside. He's found some interesting fantasy books he hasn't read and is taking one out to read.
He starts a bit at seeing Titus. "Oh! Um, sorry. Didn't know anybody else was out here..."
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