Status Updates From Excellent Women

“My thoughts went round and round and it occurred to me that if I ever wrote a novel it would be a stream of consciousness type and deal with an hour in the life of a woman at the sink”

I began piling cups and saucers on to a tray. I suppose it was cowardly of me, but I felt that I wanted to be alone, and what better place to choose than the sink, where neither of the men would follow me?

"I eat as many birds as possible," said Mrs. Bone when we were sitting down to roast chicken. "I have them sent from Harrod's or Fortnum's, and sometimes I go and look at them in the cold meats department. They do them up very prettily with aspic jelly and decorations. At least we can eat our enemies."

Today the preacher was to be Archdeacon Hoccleve, a name that was unknown to me, and I guessed that he would be some old country clergyman who would certainly mumble. But I was completely wrong. He was an elderly man, certainly, but of a handsome and dignified appearance and his voice was strong and dramatic.

Nice to see the Archdeacon from Some Tame Gazelle!

"I shall look forward to hearing your paper," I said, feeling that some effort was required and that it was up to me to make it.
"Oh, you will find it deadly dull," he said. "You mustn't expect too much."
I forebore to remark that women like me really expected very little--nothing almost.

I had observed that men did not usually do things unless they liked doing them.