It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. I know what I am talking about. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. Never bought a shirt in my life, Mr. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson.
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