"I-- yes." Thomas has the decency to look contrite. He even blushes a bit. "I think tea would be nice."
And it will give him a moment to collect his thoughts. As Edith goes to the kitchen, Thomas tries to think of where to begin.
"Our parents were wretched, you know. Our father a brute, our mother cold. Our father was forever disappointed in me, too weak and too soft to be a son of his. He took me hunting to try to make something of me. Once he forgot me, I found my way home but fell ill. Lucille couldn't stand it."
He looks down at his hands, fidgeting again. "He died not long after that."
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And it will give him a moment to collect his thoughts. As Edith goes to the kitchen, Thomas tries to think of where to begin.
"Our parents were wretched, you know. Our father a brute, our mother cold. Our father was forever disappointed in me, too weak and too soft to be a son of his. He took me hunting to try to make something of me. Once he forgot me, I found my way home but fell ill. Lucille couldn't stand it."
He looks down at his hands, fidgeting again. "He died not long after that."