( ...well. Well, well, well. The nerve of that man, taking these poor wretched souls and — why, if Mariol weren't busily fumbling around her pots and pans, she might — no, she will say something, she must do. )
...you're... you're what? Oh, bless, homeless, are you? Roaming for a new home? And you're going east?
( Nonsense, hard and plain. When she tosses the next cake in, the ladle bangs hard on the pot's belly. ) Ain't you heard? The more east you head, the more the dead. Everyone knows, everyone says, even I'm knowing. Now, what's all this?
( Madness, it is, and ignorance, and wrong. She tuts, won't stand for it. )
No, no. You sit right here, poppet. We'll find you a nice little nook in the House, and you'll pick yerself up a trade, there's all sorts. You'll stay here where it's safe.
no subject
...you're... you're what? Oh, bless, homeless, are you? Roaming for a new home? And you're going east?
( Nonsense, hard and plain. When she tosses the next cake in, the ladle bangs hard on the pot's belly. ) Ain't you heard? The more east you head, the more the dead. Everyone knows, everyone says, even I'm knowing. Now, what's all this?
( Madness, it is, and ignorance, and wrong. She tuts, won't stand for it. )
No, no. You sit right here, poppet. We'll find you a nice little nook in the House, and you'll pick yerself up a trade, there's all sorts. You'll stay here where it's safe.