Henry Hartwell smiled. "I'm not looking down on you. I just want to know what you're really thinking."
Claire Sinclair pouted and muttered under her breath, "I just want to prove to those who look down on me that I can do anything my sister can do."
"Is it really for your sister? And not for Young Master Quincy?"
"A little bit is for him, too." Her voice was weak, lacking any conviction.
Henry Hartwell laughed out loud at her words. "I told you a long time ago, you're not a bit worse than your sister. You don't need to prove yourself like this. We can't make the whole world like us; we can only live with a clear conscience."
"Teacher Hartwell, I know I'm a patient, but I think I need actual food more than chicken soup for the soul. I'm so hungry..."
"Haha... I almost forgot about that. Want an apple?"
"No, I want meat."
"Then wait here. I'll go get you some meat."
With that, Henry Hartwell slowly got up and limped out of the room.
