By the time Old Lady Hugh returned after a simple wash and change of clothes, the evening clouds were merging, and the dark gold of the sky was sinking in the west.
The reddish twilight streamed through the clouds into the room, bathing the entire living room in a fiery glow. During the wait, Molly Hanson behaved, displaying an unusually obedient and submissive demeanor.
Hannah Johnson scorned:
Pretentious and affected.
To eat something, she used a hundred and eighty little gestures, and one didn't need to look closely to know that her face wasn't her original one.
She really didn't understand why her father liked her.
"At my age, movements are slow, you all must be impatient waiting," Old Lady Hugh said, seated at the head of the table, dressed in clothes of cloud brocade, both noble and comfortable.
"How could we be, as the elder, we should be waiting for you," Molly replied with a smile.
