Slumped over in her dejection. "But I tried so hard!" she cries sobbing. Yes, my darling, I know. I know. The fault dear sweater, lies not in you. The fault is mine. Alas I trusted too much in the early fit. But it will be ok, I promise. You will soon be lounging luxuriously in your red chair in your golden gloriousness.
See the needles already in place to start up again? I will not fail you. You shall, again, be the saucy thing you once were.
"Yes," she says proudly. "I will."