"Mathter Goodfellow," Igor says in exasperation. (Puck and Havelock had agreed, some days into his stay at the castle, that 'Robin Goodfellow' was as safe a name as any other and safer than most.)
"What?" Puck replies, with perfect innocence.
Igor, meanwhile, stumps fretfully about the castle library with an armful of books, replacing them on shelves with the occasional aid of a stepladder.
"You mutht remember," he sighs, with the sort of droning dullness of one who does not expect an oft-repeated lesson to be taken to heart, "that while you are a guetht in thith cathtle--"
He shoots Puck a look. The fairy regards him with a too-bright smile, hands clasped decorously in his lap. Igor rolls his eyes and abandons that line of reasoning.
"Thuffithe it to thay," he concludes, "that my mithtreth ith very particular about the way her bookth are kept. And about everything elthe."
no subject
"Mathter Goodfellow," Igor says in exasperation. (Puck and Havelock had agreed, some days into his stay at the castle, that 'Robin Goodfellow' was as safe a name as any other and safer than most.)
"What?" Puck replies, with perfect innocence.
Igor, meanwhile, stumps fretfully about the castle library with an armful of books, replacing them on shelves with the occasional aid of a stepladder.
"You mutht remember," he sighs, with the sort of droning dullness of one who does not expect an oft-repeated lesson to be taken to heart, "that while you are a guetht in thith cathtle--"
He shoots Puck a look. The fairy regards him with a too-bright smile, hands clasped decorously in his lap. Igor rolls his eyes and abandons that line of reasoning.
"Thuffithe it to thay," he concludes, "that my mithtreth ith very particular about the way her bookth are kept. And about everything elthe."
Puck blinks, slowly.
"... Oh," he says.
"Is she?"