Chapter 48

"Do you know, young man," Matilda mumbled to her statues. "I stopped socialising when I was fifteen years old. I am as much a statue as these promising specimens, do you not think? A lovely  art of frigid stone."

Norman gazed at her, saying, "Madam, you are very much alive. We can only make a replica of life with my art. Please continue completely still." He let a frown cross her cheek before emptying his brush, carefully measuring it, and letting his hands do the rest. "I am a talented artist, madam, and I will do you justice. My talent is as a weaver, with concepts as my thread, for they need such careful stitching to reach the right levels of healthiness. So I will make the very best clothing I can for you, blankets and warm hats, gloves, and a shawl. I hope you learn how to make them too, that you become masters of greater heights than I, for then I can rest easy with our craft in safe hands." As poetically as he could, he added. Glancing at the beauty of his canvas. He cont