Laura moving her hands and straightening her back was invitation enough to continue for Sarah. Sitting next to Laura—much closer than Laura had deigned to sit—Sarah opened the book to a random page, creasing the spine down the middle.

Clearing her throat, Sarah began to read. “Crying as if his heart would break, the Marionette mourned for hours over the length of his nose,” she said, reading each word carefully, clearly, so not as to make any mistakes—hoping that the words would ring familiar, and Laura could find some sense of balance there.

She read through the whole chapter, occasionally looking up at Laura, and even going so far as to make slight gestures with her hands. “'What an awful world to live in! Where shall we find a safe place for gentlemen like ourselves?'” she concluded, and then closed the book around her fingers.

She looked down at Laura, not sure what to do. She could keep on reading, of course, and Laura wouldn't say no, even if she didn't want to hear any more; and she didn't think that asking Laura if she'd like to eat would get her very far.

And so Sarah smiled at her, trying to show that she was willing to be patient.