[Grace has some slight idea of where she is by now, and the smell of coffee tells her something to wake her up is nearby. She's learned not to complain about food even with her face, so there's only a minute stiffness in her neck before she starts picking about the table. Tea settles, coffee energizes, but she has to settle for the coffee. As she tears open sugar packets, she watches York and tries to interpret his monologue.]
Excuse me, rra. [There's a lowering of her tone as she says that last word, a hint that she's trying to offer him the same respect as any unknown person.]
no subject
Excuse me, rra. [There's a lowering of her tone as she says that last word, a hint that she's trying to offer him the same respect as any unknown person.]