“She doesn't strike me as the ignorable type."

“My dear, I have ignored heads of state when it was prudent," Cecily said with a smile. "What else have we here? Who's this on the pink paper?"      -

"Are you really going to take this class?" Jane asked Shelley later in the afternoon. She'd run over to Shelley's to borrow some milk. They were sitting at the table in Shelley's always immaculate kitchen. That was one of the great mysteries about Shelley. Her house was always spotless, but Jane had never actually caught her cleaning. When did she do it all? Jane often wondered.

“Yes, I think I will. I've dragged down the box of photo albums and letters, and I've been sorting through it. That's what that stuff on the sofa is," she said, gesturing toward the family room. "What's all that you've got?"

“It's my copy of the class materials. I've already read all of it except Mrs. Pryce's, which I don't intend to read. Mom's working on her copies now, and you can have mine."

“Are you enjoying having your mom here?"

“Sure. She's got a real talent for visiting people. She's really no trouble at all. You know how some people are—my mother-in-law's a perfect example. They'll say, 'I won't put you out a bit, but I don't eat any meat or dairy products or bleached flour, and MSG gives me hives, and do you have the receipt for that blue dress I bought you in 1963?' “

Shelley laughed. "Thelma's not that bad, is she?"

“She would be, if she thought of it. But Mom's not like that at all. She settles right in, does her share of the work without any fuss, and will eat absolutely anything. She does her own laundry without even asking how the machine works or where the soap lives and can unload the dishwasher and get everything back in its proper place. I don't know if she got that way under the pressure of living all over the world or whether it's the other way round. That she was naturally suited to be a gypsy and saw in my father a man who would let her be."