Someone stopped me this morning in Skib, declaring flatly: "I know who you are. You're Mrs Cheveley!" I stopped, kind of awkward, "Er, yeah. That's right..." They continued with gusto: "Everybody is talking about Mrs Cheveley!" - which happens to be a line from the play. And I paused, wondering whether they were saying this to me or quoting this at me.
Not that I asked them for clarification. Half the fun is pondering the possibilities of meaning.
And in other news, this evening I shall be raising a glass to a certain lady, now locally renowned for her long slinky black velvet gloves (which will be returned forthwith. Promise. Sigh.)
Have a great weekend, folks.
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