"You do," she acknowledged, making note of the heat in his words, but not shying from it. "You've lived with it for years, and it has been a Hell I can only imagine," she admitted honestly, no pity, only truth in her words. "I'm an outsider, an observer," she continued with more admission and candor. "Despite the fact that you're the most engaging man I've met in my entire spinsterhood, I'm also more objective than you," she said, picking the kitten up, once she'd warmed to her, and sitting opposite him at the table, letting the kitten tramp across his newspapers and over to him. "You're the protagonist, and she's the villain, and I very much want good to triumph over evil in your novel."