Lois Margeritta Reddle sat on the edge of her bed, a thick and heavy
cup of pallid tea in one hand, a letter in the other. The tea was too
sweet, the bread was cut generously even as it was buttered
economically, but she was so completely absorbed in the letter that
she forgot the weakness of Lizzy Smith as a caterer.
The note was headed with a gilt crest and the paper was thick and
slightly perfumed.