Peggy understands almost instantly where the desire had come from, because as soon as the word 'bruises' happens, Peggy herself can feel a tightening, a feeling that she knows all too well that means that if she were in a similar situation, she would have been quick to also want to do something about it.
"That's terrible," she murmurs, her words hushed as she adjusts with the pillows and the blankets, thinking that after everything, this is the sort of intimate story that shouldn't leave a room. "I'm glad that it drove you to do something about it, even if the whole thing is awful and depressing," she says.
"It was 1947 for me," she points out, "I'd thought that just maybe, the rights of women would be somewhat better by your time, but apparently, it seems I'm doomed to be disappointed."
no subject
"That's terrible," she murmurs, her words hushed as she adjusts with the pillows and the blankets, thinking that after everything, this is the sort of intimate story that shouldn't leave a room. "I'm glad that it drove you to do something about it, even if the whole thing is awful and depressing," she says.
"It was 1947 for me," she points out, "I'd thought that just maybe, the rights of women would be somewhat better by your time, but apparently, it seems I'm doomed to be disappointed."