Dear Mrs Samarkand, she writes, I understand you are having dinner this coming Thursday evening with Mrs Angit. I used to like a girls' night out myself with my friend Gwynneth Pritchard, you know, the one with the squint and the warts. But since that time her hubby sprayed her with dieldrin, she has gone all withdrawn into herself, as the saying goes.
Anyway, you and Mrs A, have a good time, and don't do anything I wouldn't do
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, widow, retd, unabashed.