Eva just leaves the bottle of water and the glass there. The Avoxes will clean it up. That's what they're there for, and in some ways the Capitol has made Eva numb enough to not even notice the Avoxes if they aren't her son. He might still be among them, somewhere, and until she finds him or finds confirmation of his death, all the others may as well not exist.
In the elevator, she taps her foot and shifts her weight from side to side. It's clear she doesn't like being in an enclosed space. Even her breathing seems to pick up a little bit, and she knows it's because the elevator reminds her of the tube they used to lift her up into the Arena back when she fought, and she wonders why nearly four decades is hardly enough balm to take the bite off that burn.
"Avoxes are the non-dangerous traitors to the Capitol. They don't talk." Because their tongues are cut out. "They're here to serve you."
She looks pleased for a multitude of reasons that Daniel is familiar with the poem. For one thing, it means she might have someone to actually talk to about literature, something that's been missing for many years for her now. For another, it means that she can be much more open than she has been, coded or not.
"You don't have to recite it to me. I know it by heart. I've always rather liked the first stanza." But unlike him, she's not about to start saying it out loud. That would ruin the purpose of the code. She can trust that no one finds her suspicious enough to run her idle chitchat about books through to a library, but she doesn't want to lay out the topic of conversation for anyone listening.
"Of course it's from Earth. Where else would it be from?" She doesn't look as if she's calling him silly so much as genuinely perplexed by his statement.
Re: No problem!
In the elevator, she taps her foot and shifts her weight from side to side. It's clear she doesn't like being in an enclosed space. Even her breathing seems to pick up a little bit, and she knows it's because the elevator reminds her of the tube they used to lift her up into the Arena back when she fought, and she wonders why nearly four decades is hardly enough balm to take the bite off that burn.
"Avoxes are the non-dangerous traitors to the Capitol. They don't talk." Because their tongues are cut out. "They're here to serve you."
She looks pleased for a multitude of reasons that Daniel is familiar with the poem. For one thing, it means she might have someone to actually talk to about literature, something that's been missing for many years for her now. For another, it means that she can be much more open than she has been, coded or not.
"You don't have to recite it to me. I know it by heart. I've always rather liked the first stanza." But unlike him, she's not about to start saying it out loud. That would ruin the purpose of the code. She can trust that no one finds her suspicious enough to run her idle chitchat about books through to a library, but she doesn't want to lay out the topic of conversation for anyone listening.
"Of course it's from Earth. Where else would it be from?" She doesn't look as if she's calling him silly so much as genuinely perplexed by his statement.