* * *
“Viola, I’ve given up that life. Take your dirty games to some cesspool.”
“My dirty games? ‘False face must hide what false heart doth know’!”
The two were mere centimeters away from each other now, each more insistent on standing his or her ground than the other, and Emma watched, her eyes wide, as Franklin towered threateningly a full foot above Viola, and while she kept her eyes fixed on his, craning her neck. She said steadily, “Though this be madness, Emma, yet there is method in it.”
* * *Who is this Viola? Who, indeed?
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