She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment. “Uh, I think I might, Shari. " "My penance forbids it," said Trenchard, waving his hand. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled. The note-passer lagged behind with her. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds.
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