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Tristran has traded in the clothes Molly gave him for a proper Victorian, British suit. But today is one of those days when the wind blows from the east, and, try as he might, Tristran cannot pass for a proper Victorian, British man. He just doesn't seem quite human. Tristran tried to remedy this by not venturing outside and not doing anything remotely abnormal. Instead he made tea, thinking that normality would soon follow. It didn't.
Now Tristran wanders through the mansion, searching for Mr. Strange or anyone who might be able to help him make some sense of what Childermass told him. Not knowing what you truly are can be a terrible thing.
Typist: Open! Anyone who can help a lost half-faerie boy would be most welcome. (Or just conversation.)
Now Tristran wanders through the mansion, searching for Mr. Strange or anyone who might be able to help him make some sense of what Childermass told him. Not knowing what you truly are can be a terrible thing.
Typist: Open! Anyone who can help a lost half-faerie boy would be most welcome. (Or just conversation.)