Grabbing the boy by the wrist with little concern for his personal space, Mabel gently pulled him in the direction of a table and chair set up by one of the windows. Prior to his arrival, she had arranged a couple heavy books and a human skull on the table along with the spare sheet she intended him to wear. She supposed the extra drapery wouldn't ruin the allusion to the St. Jerome painting, despite its floral pattern. And Ignatius was hardly an old man, after all. "I won't put a plate on your head," she reassured without any context.
"Sit," she instructed, although not in too bossy of a tone. He could figure out she meant the chair, so Mabel didn't bother to motion toward it, instead rearranging the extra sheet so that it hung a bit nicer off the edge of the table.