He had answered her question in the affirmative, which she supposed was what mattered, but Sarah read the tone of it as something more like inconvenience than any sort of guilt, which - she clutched the chicken more tightly, a little more sadly. The chicken clucked.
Hopefully she needn’t walk far; it was enough of a dismissal for Sarah to be on her way, but it smacked of the same idea of inconvenience, like either of their trouble was worse than the fate that had befallen poor Mr. Pickering. “Thank you, sir,” she replied begrudgingly, covering up her true feelings with a practised polite smile. “Hopefully they’ll see Mr. Pickering returned to himself again,” she added, wishing she had been even blunter about how dreadful she found this accident and where she laid the blame, but feeling tears welling up and turning away in haste, with a last nod to Mr. Mulciber and the chicken under her arm. She still had to see the lift quarantined, after all.
Hopefully she needn’t walk far; it was enough of a dismissal for Sarah to be on her way, but it smacked of the same idea of inconvenience, like either of their trouble was worse than the fate that had befallen poor Mr. Pickering. “Thank you, sir,” she replied begrudgingly, covering up her true feelings with a practised polite smile. “Hopefully they’ll see Mr. Pickering returned to himself again,” she added, wishing she had been even blunter about how dreadful she found this accident and where she laid the blame, but feeling tears welling up and turning away in haste, with a last nod to Mr. Mulciber and the chicken under her arm. She still had to see the lift quarantined, after all.
