"Friday!" echoed Mrs. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted. "I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. “Now look here, Veronica, let us be plain with each other. ” “No,” she cried, “I will not. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor commiseration.
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