But then she wet her handkerchief in earnest because it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that she could be clever and polite and work hard and mind her elders and smile prettily and mend her dresses and clean her nails and chew every bite twenty times and do everything that every adult had ever told her she ought to do and still not get what some silly troll-blooded boy with a pony and a tutor and a house in the country got just because he wanted it.
