Good. Somebody needs to look after Lillie.
You know. Besides me. Because I’m not entirely sure why people think I’m remotely suited to parenthood.
Good. Somebody needs to look after Lillie.
You know. Besides me. Because I’m not entirely sure why people think I’m remotely suited to parenthood.
I’m sorry, Lillie, but I’m afraid it’s as I’ve said to you earlier: your bag is as good as Nebby’s now. There is nothing you can do but give it up.
She has indeed, anonymous, and thank you for your concern for her!
I must say, it’s always quite refreshing to come across such an eager student, and I certainly can’t turn down a request for someone in genuine need for help. It may be some time before I find a solution to her predicament—less because it’s a difficult one (it isn’t at all) and more because the solution would require essentially rebuilding and calibrating a teleporter system in a completely different region. On the other hand, I know of quite a few mechanical engineers who owe me a favor or few, so I doubt the parts will be all that difficult to procure.
What bothers me more, though, is the book that brought Lillie to me. As I’ve said, I’m delighted to be in the company of both an intelligent and polite student—particularly one with as much passion as she does for as just a cause as hers. Likewise, I have no qualms about the existence of an “authorized biography” of my life (although it’s rather embarrassing to see).
My question about this biography, though, is why is there an entire chapter dedicated to the Clefairy Incident? That was quite literally only a week! Once! And out of all the things said in it, why would you leave out the part that it was an accident?!
I don’t know, Bill. Why would you write an entire paper on it? —LH
It was scientifically curious! It’s different when it’s for science! —Bill
And therein lies your motto. —LH