He was helpful, but gravely dubious. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. Contests were held every year, the type of which depended on her caprice. “Which one?” “The one whose life you have been making a burden, who has been all the time shielding her sister. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
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