Miss Dawson's words snapped him out of whatever inspiration he had had previously. He blinked his eyes a bit, while his body remained rigidly still as she got up and left.

He had crossed a boundary with her. He hadn't inteded to insult her, it was merely that he didn't know how to communicate with her exactly. He thought that if he showed that he had good intentions with his money, she'd like him. Weren't the less fortunate mad that the rich didn't share their money with them? Elon thought that she would like him, see him as different, if he showed that he was willing to help the poor and open hospitals.

"You too," was his awkward response, which she would have likely not heard, so quiet it was. Way after she left, he continue to think about their discussion. He wanted to clear this up with Miss Dawson, he didn't want her to think poorly of him. He would probably have to apologize to her, as a gentleman should, or it would be very awkward with her the next morning. In truth, the more Elon thought about it, the more awkward he felt. He decided it would be for the best if he got his part of the assignment out of the way and hand it to Miss Dawson, so they wouldn't have to endure each other's company again. She would like that, he thought.

And so he returned to the books.

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