(Untitled)

[mother_lost]

*Guinevere has spent the evening in the bar, but as the hour grows later, she puts aside her supper. Gathering her skirt, she rises and moves for the stairs to return to her rooms.

She has never found much to do at Milliways besides think, and there has been much -- more than usual -- on her mind of late.*

Comments

[mother_lost]

*She hesitates, for a moment.*

Yes, if you will. Tell him that--

Tell him I glad to hear of him, and that he fares well, and . . .

*She does not want to say the next part; not to Merlion. He will hear more than she wishes. But since she cannot say it to who she would -- well.*

And that he still thinks of me.

[merrimanlyon]

He has always heard more than she wishes. It is one of the reasons why their relationship is as it is now.

'I shall tell him, madam. And I believe that he will be glad to hear what you would say.'

[mother_lost]

*She considers him, and then drops her eyes.*

My thanks, Merlion.

[merrimanlyon]

A small smile. Small, but there.

'May I escort you back to your rooms, madam? The hour grows late.'

[mother_lost]

As you will.

*She raises her head again, notes the smile, and to her own surprise returns it.*