Quoted By:
"I ... don't know if I should do that, madame - I mean, after all this is a legal document. It isn't exactly something you should joke around with, after all ... now, as you are named after your father, would I be correct in guessing his name is Wilhelm?"
"Oh ... "
Oh shit! Starting to feel as if you are grasping at straws, you throw yourself into a completely different tact - hoping and praying to find yourself on solid ground.
"You are right - of course you are right. Patents are much too important for persiflage. Why, I'm ... I'm ashamed I even asked."
"No harm done, none at all. Now, does your father spell - "
"Honestly, how am I ever supposed to be my father's heir when I keep making these ... <span class="mu-i">stupid</span> little mistakes?"
Telling, there is no response to that from the goodman. You continue.
"I can't believe I tried to turn something like this into a ... a jape! Honestly, what was I thinking?"
The goodman does try to interject this time, but you bull right over him as you allow emotion to overtake your voice -
"That isn't even true - I know exactly what I was thinking. I wanted to make him laugh, of course, but more than that, I wanted to show him that I could ... if ... if I could just convince someone to write over the Patent to me, to make a deal <span class="mu-i">with</span> me instead of <span class="mu-i">through</span> me - then maybe he fret about me, about ... the future. My future. Oh, oh dear."
You sneak a breath while you very deliberately mimic dabbing away tears from your eyes - careful to keep your fingers well away from the envelope of the Hide-Eyes Glamor. You drag the moment out as long as you can ... until finally, a tired sounding sigh from the goodman signals that he has relented.
"I suppose I could write it over to you instead. Now, do you spell Wilhelmina with an 'a' or an 'e'?"
You thank him profusely, decide that you are going to spell Wilhelmina with an 'a', tell the goodman as much, then thank him some more. With that finally taken care of, you him to herd you out of his office. As you walk your way out of the office, then out of the common room of the coach house, you reflect on the irregularity of that final effort. You weren't very articulate at all - in fact, you would go so far to call that final appeal 'confusing' - but considering that you were pretending to be overcome with emotion, perhaps that helped instead of hindered. As far as flatly declaring yourself as your father's heir - that was really fraying clumsy - but on the other hand, it was necessary context, your window was narrowing, and the goodman had no reason to believe that you were trying to lead him to any particular outcome. However, it goes without saying that you wore him down more than you persuaded him - and had he been any keener, or simply just suspicious of you, that last tact of yours might have undone you. Something to keep in mind - for later, when you don't have things to do and places to be.
