Eleanor says, Everybody thinks they know me. Nobody knows me. They want to think they do, because most people can be figured out so easily and it comforts them to think that I might be figured out so easily, but I'm not like that. You can't own a stranger because you think you know her. You think, that gives you some right -- some right to -- well, you just can't own a stranger.
(Eleanor's Biographer sits quietly. There's nothing to do but listen. For now, at least.)