Goldilocks is not cold or heartless. She would likely be quite upset if anyone implied differently, though she'd only mentally put a gun to their head. See? That's true compassion
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"I have two gardens," Mary informs her, rather proudly. "One is here, and one is at home - it is nearly summer there, though, so I do not need to grow things in a greenhouse."
Adaptable and accommodating as ever, Goldy is remarkably level with her tone tonight. She comes across as positively engaged and not patronizing at all.
"Oh, lots of things," Mary says, loftily. "Crocuses, and snowdrops, and lilies o' the valley - I like lilies o' the valley best; they are the ones that look like little bells."
"It is said that Saint Leonard fought against a great dragon in a forest of South England-Sussex, if I recall correctly."
"He only managed to vanquish it after a mortal combat that lasted many hours, during which he received grievous wounds. But wherever his blood fell, Lilies-of-the-Valley sprang up to commemorate the desperate fight. The woods, which bear the name of Saint Leonard's Forest to this day, are still thickly carpeted with them."
She narrates smoothly without impressing any sense of intellectual arrogance.
"Legend also says that the fragrance of the Lily-of-the-Valley draws the nightingale to it, and leads him to choose his mate in the vicinity."
Mary listens solemnly to the story, with round eyes; one has the sense that she's studying every word.
"I did not know heros had anything to do with flowers," she says, seriously, when the story is finished. "I like them better now, I think - heros, I mean."
"- I don't think that can be quite true," Mary protests, frowning thoughtfully.
"I know a person who is trying to be a hero - and I think he is the sort who would much rather run away. Only he is trying very hard not to. He is brave, I think, even if he is often very silly."
Goldy nods understandingly. "Well, braveness comes into it as well. Heroes are not necessarily braver than anyone else. They are just brave for longer."
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"Hello, Mary. How are you?"
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"I am also well," she replies pre-emptively before inclining her head a touch. "You have your own garden?"
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Adaptable and accommodating as ever, Goldy is remarkably level with her tone tonight. She comes across as positively engaged and not patronizing at all.
"And what do you grow in each one, specifically?"
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"Do you know the legend of the Lily-of-the-Valley?"
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"No - I only heard of lilies o' the valley because I asked Dickon if there were flowers shaped like bells. I did not know there was a story."
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"He only managed to vanquish it after a mortal combat that lasted many hours, during which he received grievous wounds. But wherever his blood fell, Lilies-of-the-Valley sprang up to commemorate the desperate fight. The woods, which bear the name of Saint Leonard's Forest to this day, are still thickly carpeted with them."
She narrates smoothly without impressing any sense of intellectual arrogance.
"Legend also says that the fragrance of the Lily-of-the-Valley draws the nightingale to it, and leads him to choose his mate in the vicinity."
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"I did not know heros had anything to do with flowers," she says, seriously, when the story is finished. "I like them better now, I think - heros, I mean."
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"A hero is just a man who is afraid to run away."
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"I know a person who is trying to be a hero - and I think he is the sort who would much rather run away. Only he is trying very hard not to. He is brave, I think, even if he is often very silly."
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"Who is this person?"
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