"In short, the whole duty of a cook who is given an apple to cook is," I said, "to see that every scrap of the divine—of the flavour of the apple is smothered and killed."
She looked at me a little in perplexity.
"Isn't it?" I asked.
"Yes," she faltered.
"Well," I said, "I've recently been to see my doctor and he says that there are two things I must never touch again, at least in an apple tart: lemon and cloves. Otherwise he can't answer for the consequences. Will you help me to avoid them, at home at any rate? Will you?"
She was a good woman with a kind heart and she promised.
She has kept her promise.
Apple tarts in our house are worth eating.