He knew she had been weeping. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. Master, your humble servant. ” She rose up. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. “I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. From long experience with both races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this girl. He made his speech a little elaborately.
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