It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. "You know this is a pet project. It was a shame that they had made such a fuss, she thought as he arrived. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. I set myself to find employment. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. It’s these damned novels. 2.
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