Quote:
"Can I offer you my arm again, me Lady Daphadil?" Plymouth did offer his arm again anyway. "I promise no more slides for the night, and... I won't ruin your dress again. And... okay?"
The hideous jacket was over his shoulder and the bow-tie teased her with an awkward wave from the center of Plymouth's throat; Daphne wrinkled her even as she grinned, accepting Morgan's arm. "I'll take your word, Plymouth. No more slides and no more butter on...my dress."
Bottom. Yeah.
Quote:
His face instantly fell, his eyes tearing up and his lower lip quivering. He didn't have a speech problem! He was just fine! Wilie sniffed, rubbing his nose in hopes of stopping himself from crying.
"I-I-I dun 'ave no probblam with me thpeech!" He told her bravely. ")Er da one 'o 'ath a problem wit yer thpeech!"
His eyes then turned to face Ply. "Mithh Avaaaloon meee buumm! I dun wanna go! I 'AVE NO PROOBLAAMM"
Oh. Oh. Oh, dear. "You're not crying are you?" He was crying. Oh, dear! Her heart felt heavy and she placed a hand on the top of her stomach. She'd made a little boy cry! What kind of a witch was she? The one who left her wand in her trunk and made little boys cry; that kind.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Willie," she apologized urgently. "I didn't mean that--well, yes I did. I think you should run off to Nurse Avalon about your bum. Okay? I...I can't stay."
She was on a date. Sigh. Things weren't going according to plan. Well, did they even have a plan? Daphne's eyes sought Plymouth's own. Surely, he'd know what to do.