What Ho!
Sometime later, Fatty reenters, sans jug. His eyes are wide, his mouth is open. In short, he looks unwell.
By now, all have left save you and a few maids attending to bell debris. Fatty draws close to you and seizes your arm. He puts his large mug up in your face and whispers conspiratorily.
"Women! You can't trust any of them."
As this is self-evidently true, you simply nod sagely while trying to loosen Fatty's bruising grip on your arm.
"Stop bobbing your head, dash it. I mean, I thought she was the one woman for me, the one I could spend my life with."
"Well, I'm sorry about Cuddy, old thing, really the whole thing is..."
He cuts you off. "Cuddy? Ha! That shrimp? No, no, you idiot, Magueritte!"
"Oh, that's funny, the cook also is named Margueritte. How odd, ha ha! But who is this Maggie you are set on now?"
"Margueritte the cook, you ass. The same. An apple tart that promised eternal bliss. But that's all over now, the two-timing vixen won't give me the time of day." He sets his jaw.
This is all happening a bit too fast "Er, you aren't going to marry the cook?" you ask, trying to set the record straight.
"How could I, after I walk into the kitchen this morning and see her plying Sir Robert with breakfast pastry after breakfast pastry. Both of them sitting there with coy looks, crumbs all strewn about the table. I have never had my heart broken so," he adds in a stricken manner.
"Not even when Cuddy handed you the mitten?" After this is said, you think that maybe this incident would have been best unmentioned, Fatty not knowing your innocence in this regard.
Thankfully, he doesn't seem to care. "Please don't mention Winifred to me," he snorts. "Women!" he says, returning to his original theme.
« Go Back By now, all have left save you and a few maids attending to bell debris. Fatty draws close to you and seizes your arm. He puts his large mug up in your face and whispers conspiratorily.
"Women! You can't trust any of them."
As this is self-evidently true, you simply nod sagely while trying to loosen Fatty's bruising grip on your arm.
"Stop bobbing your head, dash it. I mean, I thought she was the one woman for me, the one I could spend my life with."
"Well, I'm sorry about Cuddy, old thing, really the whole thing is..."
He cuts you off. "Cuddy? Ha! That shrimp? No, no, you idiot, Magueritte!"
"Oh, that's funny, the cook also is named Margueritte. How odd, ha ha! But who is this Maggie you are set on now?"
"Margueritte the cook, you ass. The same. An apple tart that promised eternal bliss. But that's all over now, the two-timing vixen won't give me the time of day." He sets his jaw.
This is all happening a bit too fast "Er, you aren't going to marry the cook?" you ask, trying to set the record straight.
"How could I, after I walk into the kitchen this morning and see her plying Sir Robert with breakfast pastry after breakfast pastry. Both of them sitting there with coy looks, crumbs all strewn about the table. I have never had my heart broken so," he adds in a stricken manner.
"Not even when Cuddy handed you the mitten?" After this is said, you think that maybe this incident would have been best unmentioned, Fatty not knowing your innocence in this regard.
Thankfully, he doesn't seem to care. "Please don't mention Winifred to me," he snorts. "Women!" he says, returning to his original theme.