"What are?"
"My shoes." She held up a foot and exhibited her very modest Cuban heel. "Nannie thinks they are the right thing to wear in town, but I feel dreadful in them. Teetery."
"I expect one gets used to them in time. One must conform to the taboos of the tribe."
"Why must one?"
"Because an unquiet life is a greater misery than wearing the badge of conformity."
"Oh, well. I don't come to town often. I suppose you haven't time to have an ice with me?"
"I'm afraid not. Let's postpone it until I'm back in Westover, shall we?"
"Of course, you'll be back. I had forgotten that. I saw your victim yesterday," she added conversationally.
"My victim?"
"Yes, the man who fainted."