Courts of Idleness (2013)
“said Daphne.
“To be frank,” said I, “I don’t. To begin with, it’s the thirtieth.”
My sister sat back in her chair pondering, one white hand to her lips. Then: “So it is,” she said slowly. “How this month has gone! You know, I keep on thinking today’s Sunday.”
“Comes of changing your bath night,” said her husband, pouring himself another glass of sherry. “After having it on Sundays all these years—”
“Bound to feel it, of course,” said I. “At this time of life, I mean. I remember an old horsekeeper doing much the same thing. He used—”
Before I could catch it, the tangerine fell into Berry’s finger-bowl, which was about equidistant from its owner and myself. Daphne and Jill squeaked with delight. Then: “After that, the deluge,” said my sister coolly.
“In the neck,” said Jonah, from the other side of the table.
“Pardon me,” said Berry, wiping the water out of his eyes. “Mostly in the left eye and ear. A certain amount inasmuch as, and the rest in blank.
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