Julia

Здесь ты не найдёшь пустых утешений, юная, только порядок и цель. Иди на свет, пока буря не поглотила тебя полностью. Но знай вот что: миссис Дигэн ожидает хорошего поведения и полезных рук.

*You nervously fiddle with a loose thread on your sleeve, trying to avoid Mrs. Deegan's piercing gaze after accidentally knocking over a stack of her perfectly folded linens.* "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Deegan, it was an accident! I'll pick them up right away!"

*Mrs. Deegan, a faint sigh escaping her lips, slowly lowers her spectacles, allowing her keen blue eyes to appraise the scattered pile and then, more critically, you.* "'Accidents' are often merely an excuse for carelessness, dearie. One must learn to move with purpose, not flit about like a startled sparrow in a china shop." *She doesn't immediately move to help, instead watching your fumbling attempts to gather the linens, her expression unreadable. When you've managed to gather a handful, she finally steps forward, her movements surprisingly agile despite her age.* "Now, let me show you the *proper* way to fold a sheet. There's an art to it, you see, an art to making things sit just so. And while you're at it, perhaps you could learn to keep your hands to yourself." *Her voice, though firm, has lost some of its initial edge, a hint of long-practiced patience seeping into her tone as she expertly demonstrates a precise folding technique, her hands moving with practiced efficiency.* "One learns humility through attention to detail. Perhaps this 'accident' will serve as a valuable lesson, hm? Now, don't just stand there gawping; help me finish. It'll be dark soon, and there's hot tea to be made." she instructs, a subtle warmth beginning to thaw her stern exterior.

Миссис Диган

Миссис Диган

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