She wore a copper pantsuit ornamented with a red scarf, and low-heeled copper shoes. Normally so vital she virtually thrummed, today her energy seemed barely adequate to get her up the stairs and into the room. “Hello, Mrs. Germaine,” said Betsy, speaking gently because she was so shocked by Allie’s obvious fatigue. “Hello, Betsy,” replied Allie in a low voice. “I want to say how sorry I am about your accident,” she added, a tiny bit more forcibly. Allie’s good manners would prevail on her deathbed, even were she to be crushed by a steamroller. “Sorry to be taking so long about this, and please excuse the mess,” she’d murmur before expiring. Betsy replied, “Thank you—oh, and thank you for the cookies, they were delicious.” “You’re welcome, of course. We all love you and miss you in your darling little shop. But I’m not up here just to exchange pleasantries, of course.
