Honneur

It’s a shame, » he added kindly, « that a gentleman of your age can’t have a pot of tea when he chooses whitout having to count the leaves. »

« Thank you, Mr. Dobbie, it is a little hard, especially, if I may say so, for one who has a palate for the beverage. Better a cup a day of the best, though, than four out of some nameless packet. » He hoped Mr. Dobbie had not noticed how many months it was since he had been able to afford his favourite blend.

« You are right, you are supremely right; now which was it that Mrs. Rasleigh used to come in for at Christmas? » Dobbie glanced admiringly up at the jars above his head. « This one, wasn’t it? » He pointed to a canister.

« Yes, that was Margaret’s gift to me for years. Such a bitter loss, » he sighed, « I was thinking of her only this morning. »

Bryher Beowulf Pantheon Books 1956