The blank page is still blank, three days running. Every one of the twelve nights I won turned trivial in front of that single sheet.
My lord, that sheet of paper hasn't moved in three days. Shall I at least grind the ink for you?
First time I've seen a man who won twelve nights get pushed back by a single sheet of paper.
If you come out to the thirteenth night wearing that same face, it'll certainly make things easy for me.



