( the fly that was once merely humming around his ears is now biting at his skin. annoyance snaps to discomfort as mr hickinbottom continues to spin his fulsome words towards miss bennet. the black tea turns acerbic in atticus's mouth. surely, he is not the only one who can detect the falsehood in the man's tone and countenance. indeed, he must be because if any other person could, they would also be endeavouring to impede the pollution spewing from his mouth like smoke from a tannery. once, he thought mr hickinbottom was a worm, but that was an incorrect comparison in hindsight. atticus now thinks of him as nothing more than a rat — brown hair, brown clothing, and vacant eyes that barely conceal his greediness and the overwhelming desire to consume. chewing, clawing, and scraping to make his way.
clearing his throat of bile, atticus interjects himself into the conversation, speaking with the cheerfulness and lightness that belies his intention to illuminate the absurdity of mr hickinbottom's fulsome compliments. )All the Bennet sisters are accomplished. They play. They dance. They speak French, and I know not what! ( he looks at miss kitty, who is quietly fiddling with the lace trim on the sleeve of her dress. ) I understand, Miss Kitty, that you are talented at embroidery. ( praise is effulgent in his voice, and it is not entirely false. he has seen some of her works on tables or hanging during his visits to longbourn as he is led through the hallways into the parlour or mr bennet's library, and they are quite good.
surprised, miss kitty's gaze shifts from her dress to mr cartwright, and her cheeks pinken. after mary's performance on the pianoforte, she had not expected further compliments to be directed her way. least of all, not from mr cartwright, who appears to be more impressed by musical talent like that displayed by her sister rather than the frivolous talents possessed by herself. "thank you, sir. but i can hardly call myself talented when the thread still tangles, and the fabric still bunches if i'm not watchful.")
But you are young, and so with experience and practice, you will improve. I was not a virtuoso when I began. And neither was your aunt or your sister, I presume.
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clearing his throat of bile, atticus interjects himself into the conversation, speaking with the cheerfulness and lightness that belies his intention to illuminate the absurdity of mr hickinbottom's fulsome compliments. ) All the Bennet sisters are accomplished. They play. They dance. They speak French, and I know not what! ( he looks at miss kitty, who is quietly fiddling with the lace trim on the sleeve of her dress. ) I understand, Miss Kitty, that you are talented at embroidery. ( praise is effulgent in his voice, and it is not entirely false. he has seen some of her works on tables or hanging during his visits to longbourn as he is led through the hallways into the parlour or mr bennet's library, and they are quite good.
surprised, miss kitty's gaze shifts from her dress to mr cartwright, and her cheeks pinken. after mary's performance on the pianoforte, she had not expected further compliments to be directed her way. least of all, not from mr cartwright, who appears to be more impressed by musical talent like that displayed by her sister rather than the frivolous talents possessed by herself. "thank you, sir. but i can hardly call myself talented when the thread still tangles, and the fabric still bunches if i'm not watchful." )
But you are young, and so with experience and practice, you will improve. I was not a virtuoso when I began. And neither was your aunt or your sister, I presume.