"You will laugh at me."
"There will be no malice in my laughter if I do."
"Then the story is not mine."
"Whose then?"
"It's about my sister--Marjorie."
I gripped the edge of the table, but she did not notice, she was peeling her pear. Her daughters were occupied with their dolls. They were teaching them the only proper way in which to consume a banana. Judging from his contortions the one waiter seemed to find the proceedings as good as a play.
"You have a sister whose name is Marjorie?"
"Oh, yes, she is all the relations I have."
"Marjorie what?"
"Marjorie Fleming." Then I knew that a miracle had happened. "My eldest girl is named after her." I might have guessed it; I believe I did. "She's the dearest creature in the world, but she hasn't had the very best of times."