"We're in President Robinson's Orchard Garden right now. Just tell me who's behind you, and I promise I'll let you see Christopher Robinson."
Amelia Cobb is setting people up step by step.
Just like a woman who plays with men's feelings, she gives you a taste of sweetness, then slaps you, forcing you to move forward bit by bit.
The courtyard is freezing cold, and Amelia's back is numb from the cold.
She glances at Sandra Smith, who is stamping her feet next to her, and rises to her knees, looking down at her: "Think about it, I can wait, but you may not be able to."
Amelia says, glancing at Sandra, and heads for the main house of Orchard Garden.
"Why is she so insistent on seeing President Robinson? Is it gratitude and resentment? Or love and hate?"
Actually, saying gratitude, resentment, love, and hate together wouldn't be that strange, but when Sandra breaks it down, it feels strange somehow.
"Which kind do you hope it is?" Amelia responds without changing her expression.