“How do you always know just what to say?" I ask.
His laugh rumbles through me. "Practice, I guess."
I pull back and give him a quizzical look.
"I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging me close.
"I should hope I know what to say now that I've got you.”
“You're watching me, princess." His soft lips spread into an appreciative smile.
"People might get the wrong idea."
"What, that I actually like you now?" I tease.
He shakes his head and leans toward me. "No, that you're trying to see past me to get an eyeful of Benson."
-------------------------------------------
I shift my gaze to the board and fix an innocent look on my face.
"What makes you think that's the WRONG idea?"
Quince leans even closer and says, "Because you came back for me.”
“You'll do fine."
"What, you're psychic now?"
"Didn't you know?" he asks seriously. "Must be an aftereffect of the bond.”
“Are you going to distract me by playing footsie?"
"Absolutely, princess," he says with a wink.
"Then I won't remember a thing."
"It's a samurai training technique," he teases, spinning the test prep book toward him. "I distract you as much as possible right now." He slides the book into his lap. "And you'll learn how to test through anything.”
“Pleased to meet you," Tellin says, shaking me out of my reverie. "Lily told me much about you last weekend."
"Funny." Quince throws me a questioning glance. "She didn't mention you at all.”
“You'll get in," Quince assures me, proving once again that he can read my mind, even without a magical bond. "And if you don't," he adds, slinging an arm around my shoulders, "you can always take over for me at the lumberyard."
"Ha ha," I reply, sending a sharp elbow into his ribs.
"Lighten up, princess.”
“It comes to this then: there always have been people like me and always will be, and generally they have been persecuted.”
“For what can be imagined more beautiful than the sight of a perfectly just city rejoicing in justice alone.”
“Human beings want to know too much abut each other, and that's why there are so many lies.”
“You know," said Jack, "I was a King for a while in Hindoostan, and my subjects would get worked up into a lather about a potato, which to them was worth as much as a treasure-chest. At first I'd want to know everything about the potato in question, and I would take a large stake in the matter, but towards the end of my reign—"
Here Jack rolled his eyes, as Frenchmen frequently did during encounters with Englishmen. Leroy seemed to take his meaning very clearly. "It is the same with every King.”
“It is usually imagined that a thief, a murderer, a spy, a prostitute, acknowledging his profession as evil, is ashamed of it. But the contrary is true. People whom fate and their sin-mistakes have placed in a certain position, however false that position may be, form a view of life in general which makes their position seem good and admissible. In order to keep up their view of life, these people instinctively keep to the circle of those people who share their views of life and their own place in it. This surprises us, where the persons concerned are thieves, bragging about their dexterity, prostitutes vaunting their depravity, or murderers boasting of their cruelty. This surprises us only because the circle, the atmosphere in which these people live, is limited, and we are outside it. But can we not observe the same phenomenon which the rich boast of their wealth, i.e., robbery; the commanders in the army pride themselves on their victories, i.e., murder; and those in high places vaunt their power, i.e., violence? We do not see the perversion in the views of life held by these people, only because the circle formed by them is more extensive, and we ourselves are moving inside of it.”
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