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"Well ..." she said, still somewhat shakily, "I'm glad that you're alright. Yes, I'd like to go change now too." She reached up to take ahold of his hand and stood up very carefully to avoid stepping on the hem of her dress again. "To be on the safe side, I think that you should go out the door first this time - then you won't be in the room for me to knock over. I can't believe I didn't think of that before! I'll probably knock down some furniture on my way out, but I can always pick everything back up when I get back downstairs. What song? Hmm ... well, I always like it when you play Peter and the Wolf, but I'd love to hear anything, really - my nerves are so rattled - music would sure be soothing right about now. Thank you."

After Bartleby had left the room, Olivia gathered the skirts of her poofy dress as close to her as she could and walked very carefully out the door of the room, still managing to knock over something on her way out ... one large crash and a lot of smaller "thud"s seemed to indicate she had knocked over something large with many smaller parts attached to it or on it in some way. She turned around. "The bookshelf!" she moaned. But if she turned around to go pick things up now, she'd probably just knock more stuff over, so she continued on her way up the stairs, knocking pictures off the wall in the stairwell as she went. Fortunately none of the pictures had glass in front, so nothing shattered.She continued morosely up the stairs hearing the odd clatter and thud behind her as she progressed.

Finally she arrived in her room and shut the door carefully. She removed the dress and flung it spitefully into a corner. She turned around and stuck out her tongue at it childishly and then laughed at herself for being mad at an inanimate object. It was worrisome when things got knocked over, but when porcelain dolls got knocked over, there was always the potential for breakage ... Olivia shuddered at the thought. Then, to distract herself from such morbid musings, she opened her closet and started looking through her clothes to try to decide what to wear. "No ... not the black & white tweed tonight ... I think I'll wear something blue or green ... something to bring out the color of my eyes," she murmured aloud as she remembered Bartleby's hazel eyes looking at her with concern and suddenly found herself unable to think for a moment. She shook her head nervously to clear her thoughts, then selected a royal blue silk dress that she had never yet worn and put it on. "Lots of doll clothes are really fancy," Olivia thought, reflectively as she brushed her hair thoughtfully in the mirror, trying to make it look pretty. "Humans don't often wear stuff like this - I wonder why?" She laid her puffy blue Victorian dress on her bed - she would need to change into it before dawn, she realized unhappily. After a few minutes, she decided she was done and walked downstairs, picking up things she had knocked over on her way up. By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs she was pretty embarassed. There would be a lot of books on the floor ...

Olivia would have blushed if she'd had blood or veins to allow for a color change in her face, or possibly would have had trouble breathing. But as it was, she just sort of stood there, feeling both happy and embarassed at the same time. "He thinks I look pretty," she realized. If she had been alone, and had thought something like that, she probably would have smiled and maybe giggled, but standing there in his presence, she struggled for and mastered composure. She close her eyes for a second and put her fingers to her temples to rub them for a moment. "There, now I can think," she thought, as she slowly opened her eyes to find him looking at the floor.

"Well, I examined the things I knocked over on my way upstairs, and so far, none of the things from the hallway are damaged. I knocked the bookcase over on my way out, but both the books and the bookcase are fine now. No cracked wood or book spines. Everything seems alright."

Olivia walked over to the bookshelf, grabbed a book, and sat down on the couch, but then set the book on the coffee table. Tonight, she really just wanted to hear Bartleby play the piano, and maybe, if she felt brave enough, it might be nice to talk to him or play chess - or both.

Olivia closed her eyes and listened to the music, humming along. It was such a nice tune. It made her feel like dancing. "Hmm ... hmm ... hmm ..." she hummed along, and then thrilled as more delicate staccato notes emerged here and there in between heavier tones. "I wish we could all play instruments as well as you - it would be nice to have our own little orchestra playing this piece," she said meditatively, "I love classical music. I want to learn to play the piano someday so that I can play Fur Elise, Scheherazade, and other songs. What are some other songs that you like, Bartleby?"

Aangie is a silent doll. She walks slowly to the edge. Getting away from the children was all she could think about. She jumps, clatters and falls into a million pieces. I am no longer part of the dollhouse. :'[

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»»» "If you'd really like to learn, maybe I could teach you some day..." Bartleby said quietly, opening his eyes as he turned his head to face Olivia, still playing the song. "How about it? And some of the other songs that I like... There are so many. I couldn't possibly name all of them. Well, I like almost anything by Beethoven and Mozart..." He let out a long sigh and smiled at her. "Where is everybody else anyway?" His eyebrow raised as he quickly looked back ahead at the piano.

­««««...de tua pulchritudine.»»»»

Shyro looked over at the edge of the dollhouse near the long drop and noticed a footstep-
"Oh my"
He prepared for the worse
"Damn it" he let out with a sigh "Why Angie, why?"
He barely had known the girl and now regreted not getting to know her.