She doesn't seem mad, so the vague contrition fades out of him and he relaxes. He shakes his head.
"It's not a big deal," he brushes the question off. He hadn't really thought about it. "There's another one left, I think."
Maybe. There were a few free tables when he came in earlier, one less shouldn't hurt. Even if there aren't, it's not that big a deal. Hell, he has no problems sitting on the floor if he has to. The library assistants sure seem to have problems with it, but since they don't do much about it but give him long-suffering and weary looks if he resorts to it, he hasn't broken the habit. He's never looked—or acted—the part of the traditional bookish type. He has, however, always found himself saddled with a healthy measure of curiosity, and he's never had much shame about pursuing it.
Which means, now that he's gotten her question out of the way, he continues to study her setup with unabashed and obvious nosiness and asks—
"You're going to read all these?"
It's either a comment on the quantity or the content or the fact that they're not even all in the same language. (Thanks to his father's side of the family he knows a few words of German, but only really the incredibly impolite ones. He can't make heads or tails of French.) Or all three at once. Blunt, but not skeptical, at least not in a way that means to be accusing. If anything he's a little impressed.
no subject
"It's not a big deal," he brushes the question off. He hadn't really thought about it. "There's another one left, I think."
Maybe. There were a few free tables when he came in earlier, one less shouldn't hurt. Even if there aren't, it's not that big a deal. Hell, he has no problems sitting on the floor if he has to. The library assistants sure seem to have problems with it, but since they don't do much about it but give him long-suffering and weary looks if he resorts to it, he hasn't broken the habit. He's never looked—or acted—the part of the traditional bookish type. He has, however, always found himself saddled with a healthy measure of curiosity, and he's never had much shame about pursuing it.
Which means, now that he's gotten her question out of the way, he continues to study her setup with unabashed and obvious nosiness and asks—
"You're going to read all these?"
It's either a comment on the quantity or the content or the fact that they're not even all in the same language. (Thanks to his father's side of the family he knows a few words of German, but only really the incredibly impolite ones. He can't make heads or tails of French.) Or all three at once. Blunt, but not skeptical, at least not in a way that means to be accusing. If anything he's a little impressed.