CHAPTER 30

  Somehow, I don’t think that sounds particularly appropriate, even if it would be most heartfelt. Patience patience patience, I tell myself.

  Typhon looks at me oddly, “You look somewhat disturbed.”

  “I do?” I ask.

  "Forgive me,” He says immediately. “It is just that you looked so serious.”

  “I was thinking about my cousin,” I blurt out, thinking that I sound extensively foolish.

  "Your cousin?”

  I nod vaguely, “Her name is Patience.”

  “I see.” He looks into my eyes.

  I am afraid he really does.

  The corners of his mouth quivers, “She must be quite a role model for you.”

  “Not at all. Patience is quite a harridan,” I lie. Actually, Patience Merriwether is an irritating combination of reserve, piety, and decorum. I have never met her in person, but her letters are always preachy beyond measure … or, in my opinion, politeness. But I have kept writing to her over the years, since anyone's letters were a welcome diversion from my boring life.