The woman in the yellow dress and blue cloak festooned with spider webs was feeling frustrated. She had had two attempts at conversation stall, both that Wight and the Word-thief drifting off away from her attempts at frivolity and wit. It was particularly galling in that the Word-thief had decided to chat up that Narrator, for she had a bone to pick with his narration. He had left her out of the picnic altogether. Yes, indeed. The very invitations had suggested the Picnic was Tom and Goldberry. Well, here she was and nobody was recognizing that this party was hers as well as theirs.
*briefly contemplates singing "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to"--but only very briefly*
Well, she hoped she would have better luck making conversation with this Lady in Green. After all, there was some likelihood of spiritual similarity between them.
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.
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