"But I do admire your perseverance." She rounded his table and gracefully sat at her desk, apparently unaware that he'd stopped dead, staring at her. "You do?" She was feeding the dove, which for some reason she'd brought with her this morning, but she looked up at his words, her face curious. "Yes, of course. A man who sets a course and proceeds to sail it, no matter the barriers or odds, is very admirable in my opinion." "Ah." He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling unaccountably ill at ease. No one had told him what he was doing was good- that 'he' was good- since... well, since the death of Sir Stanley, his old mentor. "Thank you." "You're welcome." --