I could talk myself blue in the face, he thinks, and she'd not hear a word I said.
It's that thought that kills him a little bit each summer.
"I'll find it one day," he says instead, a little too cheerfully. "You wait, Lyra. You just wait. Some day I'm going to come strolling in through a door and you and Pan will be sitting there--"
And he can just see her, biting her lip, a little older and a little wiser, but still with that same motion of pushing her hair back that he loves so dearly. He blinks, his eyes suddenly stinging, and hating the too-cheerful tone of his voice.
"And then we'll build it together. Because I don't know, oh, Lyra, I don't know. Nothing I do seems to make a difference, here, and I don't know how go about building a Republic of anything, let alone Heaven. Even Mary doesn't quite understand, I think."
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I could talk myself blue in the face, he thinks, and she'd not hear a word I said.
It's that thought that kills him a little bit each summer.
"I'll find it one day," he says instead, a little too cheerfully. "You wait, Lyra. You just wait. Some day I'm going to come strolling in through a door and you and Pan will be sitting there--"
And he can just see her, biting her lip, a little older and a little wiser, but still with that same motion of pushing her hair back that he loves so dearly. He blinks, his eyes suddenly stinging, and hating the too-cheerful tone of his voice.
"And then we'll build it together. Because I don't know, oh, Lyra, I don't know. Nothing I do seems to make a difference, here, and I don't know how go about building a Republic of anything, let alone Heaven. Even Mary doesn't quite understand, I think."