I don't think I can. I don't think they can. [She quickly corrects herself. Of course Clara's right that Caitlyn can do whatever she likes here, but the same isn't true of whatever she's sharing her head with.
She leans in closely, aiming to whisper in Clara's ear but instead accidentally knocking her forehead into Clara's nose and saying in a whisper loud enough to be heard on the other side of the room,] I suspect they're dead.
Besides, I've only had four beers. [Said like someone with a much higher tolerance for alcohol than Caitlyn, who's only ever indulged in a small glass of sherry or a finger of brandy after dinner and has never in her life been properly drunk before.] Come on, Clara, dance with me.
[She flings an arm around Clara's waist and tries to spin her around, and would have spun herself right off the table if not for the burly man grabbing the back of her shirt as though he were grabbing a kitten by the scruff of its neck.]
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She leans in closely, aiming to whisper in Clara's ear but instead accidentally knocking her forehead into Clara's nose and saying in a whisper loud enough to be heard on the other side of the room,] I suspect they're dead.
Besides, I've only had four beers. [Said like someone with a much higher tolerance for alcohol than Caitlyn, who's only ever indulged in a small glass of sherry or a finger of brandy after dinner and has never in her life been properly drunk before.] Come on, Clara, dance with me.
[She flings an arm around Clara's waist and tries to spin her around, and would have spun herself right off the table if not for the burly man grabbing the back of her shirt as though he were grabbing a kitten by the scruff of its neck.]