"It's hard to lose a son so young." That doesn't seem to ring quite true either, true to Hannibal's understanding of the small tragedies in Franklyn's life. 'Ms. Dwyer' is trying to be clever, clearly. The woman sets her fingers around the stem of the glass, lifts, leaves a dewy circle on the stone. She probably won't be here long enough for the water to set into a dark stain, though ironically, she plans to be.
She takes a sip. Her face changes. "This is wonderful," she says, twisting the glass around in her fingers, admiringly. Her gaze slips past to his cookware, and then she glances out toward the office space again. Then, "And I love your establishment, too; the wood-panelling in this room alone must have cost a hundred thousand dollars. High-risk clients seem to be quite lucrative for you, Dr. Lecter.
"Perhaps you could tell me about that." She looks at him sidelong, a quirk in her brow, a smile beginning to curl the corner of her mouth and everything. It may border on rude.
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ugh i am sorry, i was up another 20 minutes but this never showed in my inbox til this morning.
She takes a sip. Her face changes. "This is wonderful," she says, twisting the glass around in her fingers, admiringly. Her gaze slips past to his cookware, and then she glances out toward the office space again. Then, "And I love your establishment, too; the wood-panelling in this room alone must have cost a hundred thousand dollars. High-risk clients seem to be quite lucrative for you, Dr. Lecter.
"Perhaps you could tell me about that." She looks at him sidelong, a quirk in her brow, a smile beginning to curl the corner of her mouth and everything. It may border on rude.