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I refuse to believe someone would enter an eating establishment they have never been to before and attempt to order without even once looking at the menu
I’m a whore, by the way.”
WHAT
“Over there’s my hidey-hole”—Madeleine nods at a door in the far wall—“by the grandfather clock. My sweet little suite. Watson is my roommate.”
No one talks like this
“What delectation is this?”
NO ONE TALKS LIKE THIS
“I do not mind them in a room, I do not want one in my womb. I ducked out during fingerpainting.”
Madeleine, girl, are you okay?
“Hullo, fruit of my loins.”
No one talks like this and if they do keep them away from me
