Marie called on years of experience when it came to shutting down attention she did not wish to receive. She managed, then, not to say That depends on who you see yourself as in this rendition.

She even managed not to look at him. "Real life is not a play, Mr. Odinson," she said, doublechecking her draft. "You can't just cast us all into parts."

A spinster of all things. Though it was true; at 21 most women were married. She was well on her way to spinsterhood. Marie didn't want to spend her life alone. She was a woman of strong passions and she longed for romance. Romance, however, didn't pay the bills. Marrying for money was a route she'd seen many a pretty girl from Lowtown take, and she couldn't blame them, but that was not her way.

Love or nothing. Once, she'd thought she might have had that, but the gentleman in question didn't even know she existed. It was better to concentrate on her work.

So why was Loki Odinson getting under her skin? It showed with unnecessary hand movements, the fact that she'd delayed standing up to file, the certain, set expression of her eyes. Why did he make it so hard to withdraw?