literature , minty ...." i pictured her saying as she did in those days ." is full of stories of the tensions between servant and master ." her hair would have been bundled up any old how , and her lipstick was always pink . " there 's a short story about a pair of sisters who were so in awe of cook that they never dared to go into their own kitchen . they spent most of their lives fearfull and thristy ."
then , rose had hovered between wryness and laughter . this rose did too . there was no hint of bitterness , only a polite interest as she took in the changes to the sitting room .
therrrific , i thought . we end up where we began . where once o had observed this room through rose's eyes - painted in pale dove gray , the sofa and chairs arranged close to the window - rose was now observing it htrough my eyes : a crea- yellow paint wash , the sofa and chairs pulled closer to . . the fireplace . she was probabaly concluding . as i had done all those years ago : that woman dose not understand this room .
" what are you doing here ? rose ?"
her gaze swung between me and nathan ." didn't nathan tell you ..?" her eyes gleamed as she took in the situation . " nathan , you didn't tell minty . that's bad of you . i wanted to talk to nathan , and he suggested that i drop in since i was going to be in the area : sooner or later , we'd have to meet , wouldn't we , minty ? is it pkay ?"
"i ddidn't know . i said . " 'm not prepared ."
ros4e could have said : nothing prepared me for your taking nathan away . she considered : i don't think either of us has anything to be afraid of , minty . not anymore ."
i missed her . what i mean is that i missed the kind , soft rose .
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