Louis is quiet within the flow of conversation, content to absorb Daniel's logic and Jeannie's impassioned defense, the surprise of Lestat observing true crime. He has made a little examination of Mark's nail polish, lifting his hand to turn fingers in his own and consider the effect. Inquire in an undertone as to the name of the color, before turning a wide, sharp-toothed smile to the opposite side of the table.
How truthful is it, when Louis says, "Daniel never asked how I got all that property."
Maybe a little true. Maybe the paperwork is all correct, and the implicit bloodbath is real. Maybe none of it is, and Louis is playing.
Regardless—
"She asking me?" a question directed broadly, as Louis looks from Mark to Daniel to Jeannie, conversational. As if this is not a kind of delicate territory. As if Louis had not told Daniel across a polished table and silver platter that he had not killed for over twenty years.
no subject
How truthful is it, when Louis says, "Daniel never asked how I got all that property."
Maybe a little true. Maybe the paperwork is all correct, and the implicit bloodbath is real. Maybe none of it is, and Louis is playing.
Regardless—
"She asking me?" a question directed broadly, as Louis looks from Mark to Daniel to Jeannie, conversational. As if this is not a kind of delicate territory. As if Louis had not told Daniel across a polished table and silver platter that he had not killed for over twenty years.