“The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. Whether they are loved or unloved has no bearing upon this desire to test their wings, to try this new adventure, to take this leap into the dark. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. "That he couldn't choose any one so agreeable to me. “I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. ’ Gerald grinned. And you will.
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