Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. Some day older people, perhaps, will trouble to understand younger people, and there won’t be these fierce disruptions; there won’t be barriers one must defy or perish. Melusine tapped on it. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order.
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