He merely waved a hand to brush off the suggestion of poor taste – he had probably been closer to Edmund in the last few years than Frank had, and he was not so delicate in sensibility to find offence in it – but indeed he waved off the idea of a tour, too, for he had seen plenty of the Sanditon already, and was not particularly interested in hearing about nuances of the building’s design.
It probably didn’t hurt to be polite, though, as long as he was here, so Frank held himself carefully, considered. Staying at the Rosewoods’ as a guest was a little strange: he felt almost disoriented here at the Sanditon – new cardinal directions on the doors notwithstanding, ha – as if there could well be booby traps around any next corner, as if the walls would close in on him and he could get fatally caught here at any moment. (But it would be fine. Maybe he just wasn’t used to living like this.)
“How bad was the damage to the building?” He knew – some of – the human cost. Besides, buildings were probably safer to talk about than anything else. “When the storm hit?”
It probably didn’t hurt to be polite, though, as long as he was here, so Frank held himself carefully, considered. Staying at the Rosewoods’ as a guest was a little strange: he felt almost disoriented here at the Sanditon – new cardinal directions on the doors notwithstanding, ha – as if there could well be booby traps around any next corner, as if the walls would close in on him and he could get fatally caught here at any moment. (But it would be fine. Maybe he just wasn’t used to living like this.)
“How bad was the damage to the building?” He knew – some of – the human cost. Besides, buildings were probably safer to talk about than anything else. “When the storm hit?”