“Remember if people talk behind your back, they are also talking behind your fanny,” Margaret Begoode cried, wringing her hands against the top rail of the stair, or in her apron.
Yes, in her apron, for a broken heart don’t stop, it just keeps on beating, thought Midge with a sigh.
Midge said, “Maggie, people cain’t help driving on the wrong side of the road thesadays. It is just the way the world is, honey.”
But Margaret would not be consoled, and fell into a heap on the fancy carpeting. “When you hear the phone ringing,” she wailed, “just tell me it’s Archie with the maple syrup!”
Margaret even knew how she would kill herself, marveled Midge, removing one hand from a lace glove and ascending the stairs. It would be with a stack of poisoned pancakes.
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