mistressmaryquitecontrary (
mistressmaryquitecontrary) wrote2008-10-30 08:34 pm
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Tomorrow Mary turns thirteen.
The cook is going to make a cake and she is to be let off lessons. Other than that she's not really sure what to make of this; despite the cold weather, she's sitting outside by her tree (now bare) in her garden, trying to decide.
The cook is going to make a cake and she is to be let off lessons. Other than that she's not really sure what to make of this; despite the cold weather, she's sitting outside by her tree (now bare) in her garden, trying to decide.
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Galadan's lips twitch.
"As it happens, I would return to Milliways, and then travel from there to the moon. With the appropriate precautions taken, of course."
This same procedure would occur if, for example, Mary and her uncle were being taken to India. Or Antarctica.
Or New York.
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He raises one eyebrow.
"As you might already know, were you inclined to anything resembling 'planning'. It works for your garden, does it not?"
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Mary, however, is not thinking of this, because she is too busy saying indignantly, "I do plan! That is not a fair judgment - I have planned a good many things."
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It's not really a request, as such.
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"Should you like me to write it now or ought I to write it up tonight to give to you tomorrow?"
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His lips twitch.
He may be teasing her.
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There you go! That one is going on the list.
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Truly.
The Sahara is nothing on Galadan's voice at this moment.
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"But large plans are made up of smaller plans, so. It does no good to plan for the long term if you cannot plan for the short."
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"There is that. It will do you well to remember it."
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"I am the one who said it."
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Galadan appears fairly amused.
"And having accomplished such a meeting of the minds, shall we head in for tea?"
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Mary clambers back up to her feet, graceless as usual, and pauses briefly to brush off the dirt and pick a twig or two out of her hair before heading towards the small garden door.