Fall in love in a weekwe get by

– Probably about half an hour? – I responded uncertainly. – Maybe less. We were rushing so fast that I definitely couldn’t have withstood this pace for more than half an hour.

– Thirty to forty minutes, no more. And by the way,” Norwood looked at his watch, “five minutes ago the second year of alchemists finished their classes. Since we're not in Edinburgh, it's time to do good and spread justice. Miss Blair, as I understand it, you are not in much of a hurry to get home today, so perhaps you will continue to bring gifts and inform the dear Mr. Applestone that he has a written test awaiting him first? In the left drawer of the desk under the Gregorian reference book. Will you give me exactly twenty minutes and make sure that this genius of poetry looks at the questionnaire? and only into it. I'll come to the end. We must inform Madame Headmistress about the sad portal incident.

“It’s true,” I finished my coffee in one gulp. “I completely forgot about our swamp adventures.” Chester, thanks for the treat. Please convey my admiration to Mrs. Ferguson. I have probably never eaten such delicious pies in my life.

She stood up and opened the portal as usual.

***

Applestone hesitated in front of the locked door of the professor's office. He looked at me with the eyes of a wounded kitten and seemed to want to say something, but I was the first to do so. There is no point in depicting a dying doe here, I too, an unrecognized poet.

– Good afternoon, Mr. Applestowe? Come in,” she opened the door and entered first. “Professor Norwood will be here soon, while you sit down and write the test.” You have twenty minutes, time has passed.

She placed a sheet of questions in front of him and looked at her watch.

– Is he really going to kick me out?! – this home-grown Romeo asked tragically.

– When he comes, ask him. But I think the answer will depend on what and how you have time to write, so don’t waste your time.

Applestone let out a heavy sigh worthy of a half-strangled bison – why is it that zoological pictures pop into my head?! – and buried himself in work.

A pen creaked, a clock ticked, and a spreading linden rustled with leaves outside the window. I suddenly thought – Charlotte gave Norwood and me a great gift. Even if wandering through the swamps cannot be called a pleasant activity, it is certainly more exciting than a social event. Norwood was… perhaps interesting? He looks not like a dry-haired professor, but like the Dougal that Sabella showed me. I remembered the time spent with Chester with a smile. Thanks to Mrs. Ferguson, her pies were a great conversation starter.

I didn’t look at Applestone and he probably took it as an indulgence. The creaking of the pen died down and was replaced by the rustling of pages. So-so. I went up to the table – the office was not an auditorium, the trembling young man did not have time to react – and took the thick reference book from his lap.

– Miss Blair! – Applestone was indignant in an offended whisper.

– What?

– Don’t you feel sorry for me at all?!

– No. Should it?

– Certainly. I'm not some Obli. I have one of the best overall results in the course. But if Dr. Norwood is seriously mad at me, he will find something to complain about. I have to check!

– “Easter Applestone.” I would like to remind you that it was you, not Mr. Obley, who caused this deadly situation. Because of my own frivolity and conceit, and not ineptitude. What do you think is worse? Ineptitude goes away with experience, if only there was a desire. And your best results and the negligence they generated almost landed both you and me in a hospital bed. Best case scenario. It's a shame if you don't understand this.

– I understand! But… – Applestone rubbed his face and stared at his sheet with an unseeing gaze. – Okay, it’s good that it’s in writing and not verbally. He would have smashed me!

“Four minutes,” I said. – Add what you know.

Norwood came in at the last minute.

– Good afternoon, Mr. Applestone. I won’t say that I’m glad we met.

– Mutually, professor. I mean… kind. Hope. – He moved his long-suffering sheet to the edge of the table. – All is ready.

– if you also hope that everything will be limited to this writing, then in vain. Hoping is harmful to a growing organism. Tomorrow you will come for the results, they will become admission to the oral examination.

– When? – Applestone asked sadly.

– After classes, of course. Or do you expect to amaze me with the depth of your knowledge during a ten-minute break? This is possible in the only case – if you have no knowledge at all.

“Got it, at half past six,” Applestone nodded and disappeared. Forgetting, by the way, my reference book, which I put on the edge of the table.

And Norwood turned out to have a keen eye for other people’s books – he noticed right away. He opened the flyleaf, admired the library stamp of the Academy, and asked: