“I am not your Latin tutor. I am here to speak… profess?… my sincere, ardent, and overwhelming adoration for your sister. I cast myself upon your mercy; with a… demand? Surely you mean plea… that you shall engineer a meeting for us.” She looked up and cherished the pale, stricken look in his face. “I do not believe that Virgil ever wrote that, Mister Clarke.”
He blushed. “No, it is my own creation.”
“Your own creation?” she laughed. “Well, your grammar could use some revision. As could your knowledge of your audience. I have never been known for my mercy.”
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Inspired by the word "Tutelage", from several days back.