About the story
I walked home after the inquest. Mother had gone in the car, looking rather sick, as she had done since Elinor’s death. Not that she had liked Elinor. My cousin Elinor Hammond had gone happily through life, as if she woke each morning wondering what would be the most fun that day; stretching her long lovely body between her silk sheets – how bitter mother was about those sheets! – and calling to poor tired old Fred in his dressing room.