Hallowe'en Party
“Oliver had ensconced herself at a table in the window of The Black Boy. It was still fairly early, so the dining room was not very full. Presently, Judith Butler returned from powdering her nose and sat down opposite her and examined the menu.
“What does Miranda like?” asked Mrs. Oliver. “We might as well order for her as well. I suppose she’ll be back in a minute.”
“She likes roast chicken.”
“Well, that’s easy then. What about you?”
“I’ll have the same.”
“Three roast chickens,” Mrs. Oliver ord...ered.
She leaned back, studying her friend.
“Why are you staring at me in that way?”
“I was thinking,” said Mrs. Oliver.
“Thinking what?”
“Thinking really how very little I knew about you.”
“Well, that’s the same with everybody, isn’t it?”
“You mean, one never knows all about anyone.”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Mrs. Oliver.
Both women were silent for some time.
“They’re rather slow serving things here.”MoreLess
“What does Miranda like?” asked Mrs. Oliver. “We might as well order for her as well. I suppose she’ll be back in a minute.”
“She likes roast chicken.”
“Well, that’s easy then. What about you?”
“I’ll have the same.”
“Three roast chickens,” Mrs. Oliver ord...ered.
She leaned back, studying her friend.
“Why are you staring at me in that way?”
“I was thinking,” said Mrs. Oliver.
“Thinking what?”
“Thinking really how very little I knew about you.”
“Well, that’s the same with everybody, isn’t it?”
“You mean, one never knows all about anyone.”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Mrs. Oliver.
Both women were silent for some time.
“They’re rather slow serving things here.”MoreLess
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