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Summary
The thing was, Margo watched everyone. She watched everyone, and so she saw Quentin’s little Alice and it was going to be no good, she could see that. She could see that from a hundred miles away. Alice was driven and broken in ways that would mean they were always just- just swinging on trapezes and missing their next catch, fumbling, one of them always falling. And Margo couldn’t give them a safety net, like she gave Eliot.
She couldn’t spread herself under them, over the rocky bottom of ruin and say, “This far and no further.”
She could only watch.
