Chapter 9 I'll Feel Bad

• "You are beautiful. Asher's ex-girlfriends, who are petite and fair-skinned, are different from you." An intellectual beauty walked out of the house. Penelope felt like bathing in the spring breeze when she smiled at her.
• "This beautiful lady is..." Penelope's eyes lit up, feeling that the beauty in front of her looked a little like the young Audrey Hepburn.
• "I'm Phillip's girlfriend, Olivia Miller." She smiled graciously.
• Phillip wrapped his arm around Olivia and said, "We're going to prepare the food. So please make yourselves comfortable."
• Penelope nodded, hanging a warm smile afterward. Warren is watching the game on TV.
• Penelope walked around the living room and enjoyed the furnishings in the room.
• "Hey, do you see what this is?" Penelope brought a cup with a poem on it.
• With a glance, he said, "Do not tamper with other people's houses."
• "But they just said I can make myself at home."
• "They said that out of politeness, do you really think of it as an imperial decree?"
• Penelope curled her lips, passed the cup to him, and said, "I have taken it. Please help me read it."
• He glanced at her and picked up the cup.
• The cup is inscribed with a poem written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
• How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
• I love thee to the depth and breadth and height,
• My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight,
• For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
• I love thee to the level of everyday's, Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
• I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
• I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
• I love thee with a passion put to use,
• In my old griefs and with my childhood faith.
• I love thee with a love I seemed to lose,
• With my lost saints - I love thee with the breath,
• Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God chooses,
• I shall love thee better after death.
• Penelope sat on the floor, looking at him expectantly. "It looks like a poem, is it?"
• "Yes."
• "What does it say? Half of the inscriptions can hardly be read."
• He turned sideways and said, "It is the poem How Do I Love Thee written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, which told her love for her husband.
• "Could you please read it to me?" Penelope stared at the glass.
• The game is at intermission. He had nothing else to do, so he read it sentence by sentence. Deep in thought, Penelope tried to feel the mood of this poem.
• "I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. How beautiful it is!" She admired it.
• "... and, if God chooses, I shall love thee better after death." Warren's voice is deep and flat, but he is saying the most touching love words in the world.
• Penelope saw his lips open and close.
• Those words fly from her left ear to her right one, like the cool breeze in the park, the wild geese across the sky, leaving without a trace.
• After reading the poem, the game continued, and Warren turned his eyes to the television.
• Penelope looked at his perfect jaw line. Her heart is beating fast as if it is going to jump out of her chest.
• "Mr. Duncan..."
• About two seconds after, Warren lapsed his head. "You're talking to me?"
• Penelope curled her lips, picked up the cup, and put it back. She quickly ran to find a bathroom.
• How could she forget that he is Asher's uncle? Penelope hid in the bathroom and thumped her head. How can she forget?!
• "No, it's not okay..." She leaned against the door and hung her head.
• More and more guests arrived, and initially, there were still people who were curious about Penelope. Later on, everyone got together to have fun. No one asked where this strange woman had come from.
• Penelope sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She is calculating how much money Asher should pay for her.
• Olivia noticed Penelope was alone, so she whispered to Phillip.
• Phillip went to Warren at the poker table," Let me replace you. You should go to accompany the guest you've brought."
• Warren stood up and saw Penelope sitting quietly with her arms around her knees in her blanket. She is much quieter than when she is at home. She can be quiet at times.
• "Fifteen thousand..." Penelope opened the calculator on her phone and contemplated for a moment. "Where did I stop?"
• "Ten thousand or fifteen thousand?" Penelope murmured.
• Hearing footsteps behind her, Penelope straightened her back with her pores tightened.
• "You asked me to take you out. That's how you spend your time?" Warren stood by her side, looking down at her.
• Penelope turned her phone over and said, "The games they play do not interest me..."
• "I thought you could integrate yourself into the groups wherever you go, but clearly, I was wrong." He sat on one of the wooden benches with his legs crossed.
• Penelope laughed. "You've overestimated me."
• He said, "Talk about your past Christmas. Why isn't it worth celebrating?"
• Penelope was distracted by a lot of scenes flashing in her mind. "Are you sure you want to know?"
• "If not, why am I here?"
• Penelope smiled awkwardly, "I'm afraid that after listening to my story, you will be in no mood to celebrate Christmas. I'll feel bad."
• "You think too much. Your influence on me is not that big."
• "Well."
• Penelope bowed her head and pulled her shawl over her shoulders. She asked, "Which part do you want to hear? My mother hid drugs in my mouth to pass the security check on Christmas when I was ten years old? Or when I was adopted by my neighbor at the age of twelve, I was sent to the hospital for gastric lavage because of drinking a whole bottle of whiskey?"
• Warren looked at her, and a smile appeared on his face.
• "Oh, right. Do you want to listen to my story about how I bought the first turkey?"