voice is rusty ; possibly AX

[housing]

No, no.

This won't do at all. This place, take me back. It isn't my home, and that ship you're thinking upon. It's ghastly. What of my things? What of the silver. Oh, the silver must be shined, and the wood must be polished. One must keep up on a house of that nature. A fine house indeed.

But the boy is there? [It sparks an interest at least.] I am rather fond of him. Perhaps there is a child there. My child. How I would like that. Very much so.

Oh, but I can't go. I must stay. For the baby, for the house, for Charles, as useless as he was.

Comments

[housing]

But I won't have it. [God, girl. What dearest Tate sees in you, she doesn't know. Keep up with her.]

I won't have any of it. I'll be penniless, worthless. [It's worse than being married to Charles and his failings.]

[smolderingchild]

And that sucks, I get that. [Tate saw lots of great things in her, thank you very much.]

Well, hey you could start over? Living in that house sucks anyway. A space ship sounds much cooler.

[housing]

It is not just the house. [But the deeds done. For a moment she looks a bit weepy. All that has happened, all that she had a hand in. There is far too much sorrow for one place.]

Perhaps you should like it, but it sounds like something they would read over the radio of the commonfolk.