I've left this far too long thanks to a lot of foolish pride that's unbecoming of a gentleman of any race, creed, or species. I'd like to extend my deepest apologies for the way I spoke to you at the end of July have spoken to you in the past, both recent and far-flung. I've spoken down to you more than once in our acquaintance, I'm sure, like one of your highbloods would.
I'm sorry to say that's rather the way of things where I'm from. Girls are treated as daughters and children until they become wives. There's almost always a fellow in the mix, looking out for her to make sure some other chap doesn't take advantage of her and seeing her honor is kept well intact. Occasionally telling her off when she's gotten above herself. Being a pill and shouting her down if she does something that might put her or the family name in danger. They're sort of treated as a different species entirely, you know? You've got certain ways you're meant to act toward them and they've got certain ways they're meant to act.
I've certainly come to realize that's hardly the thinking of a modern man what with all the modern birds we had buzzing about the game and here. We Woosters have rather thick heads, though, and actually getting anything out of them once it's stuck there is rather like trying to get blood from the proverbial stone. Hardly going to happen unless we're bashed over the head with the blasted thing.
All that's to say: I was horribly wrong and just horrible to you. I spoke to you as an absolutely rotten scoundrel from some penny dreadful would to a factory girl who's given him the pip. That's not the way a preux chevalier should address a young lady a person should talk to one of his chums. I know you don't need anyone. You're a perfectly self-sufficient sort of girl, which is far more than can be said for young Bertram. I know you don't need him, but I'm glad you do have Ienzo for whenever you want him there.
I'm sorry for how I've treated you, Ammond. How I've thought about you. I've been trying to get better, to whack the head with that dratted proverbial stone. I promise I shan't ever speak to you like that again. You don't deserve it, and no one does.
Delivered August 15th by Bee
Ms. RaiMs. AmAmmond,I've left this far too long thanks to a lot of foolish pride that's unbecoming of a gentleman of any race, creed, or species. I'd like to extend my deepest apologies for the way I
spoke to you at the end of Julyhave spoken to you in the past, both recent and far-flung. I've spoken down to you more than once in our acquaintance, I'm sure, like one of your highbloods would.I'm sorry to say that's rather the way of things where I'm from. Girls are treated as daughters and children until they become wives. There's almost always a fellow in the mix, looking out for her to make sure some other chap doesn't take advantage of her and seeing her honor is kept well intact.
Occasionally telling her off when she's gotten above herself.Being a pill and shouting her down if she does something that might put her or the family name in danger. They're sort of treated as a different species entirely, you know? You've got certain ways you're meant to act toward them and they've got certain ways they're meant to act.I've certainly come to realize that's hardly the thinking of a modern man what with all the modern birds we had buzzing about the game and here. We Woosters have rather thick heads, though, and actually getting anything out of them once it's stuck there is rather like trying to get blood from the proverbial stone. Hardly going to happen unless we're bashed over the head with the blasted thing.
All that's to say: I was horribly wrong and just horrible to you. I spoke to you as an absolutely rotten scoundrel from some penny dreadful would to a factory girl who's given him the pip. That's not the way a
preux chevalier should address a young ladya person should talk to one of his chums. I know you don't need anyone. You're a perfectly self-sufficient sort of girl, which is far more than can be said for young Bertram. I know you don't need him, but I'm glad you do have Ienzo for whenever you want him there.I'm sorry for how I've treated you, Ammond. How I've thought about you. I've been trying to get better, to whack the head with that dratted proverbial stone. I promise I shan't ever speak to you like that again. You don't deserve it, and no one does.
Deepest A.s,
Bertie