[picture flickers--the Hatter sits at a table, staring at his moving hands, a number of pins in his teeth; some newly acquired fabric, thread, odds and ends lay by his elbows, a cheap, half-broken form behind him with a rich, finely made, fully pieced suit upon it]
It is a wonder, a puzzlement, how one can sleep in such a City--let alone survive
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I must say those are beautiful hats.
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Oh--thank you, thank you, fifty and a hundred times! They're my passion, you know...
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You're very welcome.
Where did you learn to make them like that?
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Oh, any and everyone of the Hightopp Clan has been a Hatter. The finest in Underland, we are. Were. [brief dark flicker--takes a breath] There's always been a Hightopp employed in the White Queen's court, annul after annul--and, as it is, her Majesty has asked for my services once more.
[he sets to work, pinning a brightly colored feathered facinette on another hat]
Am, are, will be, and have been a Hatter.
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