The more she had lost herself to cleaning and restoring the once great mansion, the less Edith noticed her husband's melancholia. Her novel almost completed, she had squirrelled her energy into making Thomas happy and though it seemed to be taking longer steps to make it happen, he did spend more of his time laughing and smiling alongside her.
She was not surprised that he had forbade her from doing anything to Lucille's room and instead her curiosity had turned towards the lower levels of the house. The elevator was rickety and old but still usable, though she stole looks down into its depths. The entry rooms and kitchen were all scrubbed and cleaned and restored finally and so her time completing those jobs was nearly done. The red clay still seeped but she had found ways of siphoning it before it ruined her hard work.
Edith's curiosity had indeed not waned regarding Thomas's childhood and she frequently caught him staring at paintings or papers . "Thomas?" she said, catching him once more. "Are you well?"