Marguerite is on her way back to the house of Hye, her footsteps ever increasing. She keeps running out of time. She feels stressed every day. Time, it's always about time. Oh, she so wishes she had control over time, or that at least it could spare her in its ruthlessness.
She cannot afford to be patient, if time cannot stop for her, she must accelerate herself.
She steps into the
After handling that affair she goes to sit in the tea room. But then she thinks of something.